


A Growing Cataclysm

by CyrusJ



Category: Champions (Roleplaying Game), Champions Online
Genre: Angst, Anti-Villain, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Complete, Female Anti-Hero, Gen, Superheroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:14:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 40
Words: 108,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23811391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyrusJ/pseuds/CyrusJ
Summary: For years, Cataclysm has used her growing power over fire to help a street gang called the Maniacs expand their influence in Westside. When aliens invade, she realizes that the only way anyone in the city is going to survive is if everyone stands together. Her actions helping to defend Millennium City attract the attention of Witchcraft, one of the city's superheroes. Will she return to her life of crime, follow Witchcraft on the path of the hero, or find a third option?This fic follows many of the story arcs in the game, but from the point of view of an ex-villain rather than a traditional hero. It changes events to fit her background and personality, while trying to keep the core of the story intact.This story is written to be approachable fandom blind. If you are familiar with Champions (the MMO or the TTPRG), you'll get more out of it, but you should enjoy it even if you've never heard of Champions.
Relationships: Original Female Character & Witchcraft
Comments: 9
Kudos: 5





	1. Home Sweet Home

**Author's Note:**

> This is a finished story, 40 chapters long. I will post one chapter per week.
> 
> I chose not to use Archive Warnings because there is one chapter that contains some graphic violence. I didn't want to use that tag because it's not reflective of the whole story, but I didn't want to say no warnings apply either. I will post a warning at the beginning of that chapter.
> 
> One problem with computer game fanfic is if you've played the game then you know the plot. In this story, though, the MC is coming at the story from a different perspective. She starts off as a villain so I've had to tweak the story to fit her background and personality. For example, in the early chapters, she's not helping the cops take down the gangs; she's working to protect the Maniacs. I feel it gives a fresh perspective to the story even if you've played the game.
> 
> This story was originally posted on my personal site several years ago where it got nearly zero traffic, even when I posted in the Champions Online forums. I decided to post it here for broader exposure.
> 
> I realized as I was editing this for posting here that I write "Westside" throughout this fic, when apparently it actually should be written "West Side". Well, it's not really worth changing.

As Lori Jett pulled into the driveway her stomach started to hurt. She sat there and stared at the house for a while but she knew she'd have to go in eventually. With resignation, she grabbed her backpack off the passenger seat and got out of the car. As she approached the front door her stomach got tighter but she pushed on ahead.

She opened to the door to Crystal shouting, "Where have you been? You were supposed to be home ten minutes ago!"

Lori said nothing as she tossed the car keys to the blonde teenage girl and headed for her room. "I'm telling mom!" the girl shouted after her. "And I'm telling her how you threw the keys at me. You could have cut me!" When she didn't get a response she finished with "Weirdo!" and slammed the front door.

"Bitch," Lori mumbled as she closed the door to her room.

She dropped the backpack onto the floor and shrugged out of her jacket. She caught sight of herself in the mirror and stopped to look. She was a thin girl--not slim like the beautiful girls at school, but bony and flat-chested. She told herself she hadn't grown into her look yet, but she was already 16 and didn't have much hope for her future. Her face was not pretty, though she had to admit the short spiky hair didn't really help. Maybe she should grow it longer.

Lori snorted at her self-indulgence and turned away. She had bigger problems than the face staring out of the mirror.

She flopped down into her desk chair and stared at the calendar. Nineteen months. Nineteen more months until she could get out of this hell hole. She'd tried telling the social worker how awful things were, but as long as her foster parents weren't beating her or raping her the state didn't care. Lori had thought about making up stories but even she had to admit that wasn't fair. She didn't hate her foster parents or even Crystal enough to put them through something like that. So she just counted the days and learned to cope.

She unlocked the drawer that kept her coping mechanism. Her foster parents, Jack and Mabel, hated that locked drawer and interrogated her about it over and over. It was the one thing Lori wouldn't budge on. It was none of their business. She pulled out the contents and set things up on the desk. Then she clicked the lighter to life and lit the candles.

Candles. Who would have thought she'd have to hide candles? Hell, they weren't even scented.

She stared at the flame and relaxed. The tension went away and her stomachache faded. She watched the flame dance slightly and the wax drip down the sides. She held out her hand, close enough to feel the heat from the flame. She never knew why fire calmed her, she just knew that it did. It was perfect in its beauty. The energy, the light, the power there was both comforting and humbling.

But they didn't understand it. They called her a pyro and a firebug. OK she had burned the couch a little that one time but she'd paid for the repairs. And she fixed that one spot on the carpet before anyone realized anything had happened. Why couldn't they just let her have this one thing? But no. Crystal got everything but she was their real daughter. Lori was just the charity case they took in so they could brag to their friends.

Suddenly Lori remembered her prize. She fished it out of her pocket, looking around guiltily even though nobody was home. It shone in her hand, the light from the candles reflecting off the small gems. It was a small fire starter she had stolen from the magic shop, just a cheap trinket. She could have bought it but she liked the guilty thrill of taking it. Besides, she reasoned, it was so cheap the store wasn't out much money. Nobody really got hurt.

It worked kind of like a real lighter. You pushed that gem there but rather than sparking flint it triggered some kind of minor fire magic. She held out the fire starter to one of the unlit candles and pressed the gem.

* * *

Lori swam out of the darkness, drawn by the noise. She could hear voices and other sounds. Lights poked at her closed eyelids and she could feel something on her face covering her mouth. In a panic she jerked awake and pulled the thing off her face.

"It's okay," a man's voice assured her. "Just leave it." A hand put the thing back.

Lori realized she was lying on the ground. Someone was leaning over her in some kind of uniform. A paramedic? Why was a paramedic leaning over her? She reached up again to touch the thing on her face and realized it was an oxygen mask.

She sat up and the man tried gently to push her back down but she waved him off. She pulled off the mask again. "What's going on?" she asked trying to make sense. She saw people and cars--police, ambulance, fire. Where was she?

Finally her brain managed to process what she saw. She leapt to her feet and stumbled, suddenly dizzy. The paramedic caught her and lowered her to the ground. "Take it easy," he said. "Just rest for a bit." He tried to put the mask back on and she pushed it away again.

"What happened?" she demanded, still groggy and confused.

"There was a fire," he said. That was an understatement. The house was in ruins. The entire structure had collapsed and firefighters were spraying water on the smoldering rubble. "A firefighter found you inside, passed out from smoke inhalation. You're very lucky you weren't burned."

Suddenly a woman shrieked, "My house!" Lori looked over to see Mabel pushing her way through the police cordon keeping the crowd back. "My house!" she said again. She caught sight of Lori. "What did you do?" she demanded.

"I don't know," Lori said, feeling panic starting to rise. "I don't remember."

"You were playing with your candles, weren't you? You horrible little brat, you burned down my house!" She lunged at Lori but a police officer intercepted her.

"Ma'am, are you the homeowner?" he asked quickly. "Could you come this way and answer some questions?" Mabel glared at Lori but followed the officer.

Another officer knelt next to her. "Could you answer some questions?" she asked. Lori nodded mutely. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"I don't know," she repeated. "I was in my room. I...I was burning some candles, but that was it. Just two candles."

"Did you leave the room? Fall asleep? Leave the candles unattended in any way?"

"No!" Lori insisted. "I just remember I was going to light another candle and then I was here."

"Were you doing anything else?"

"No, just watching the candles."

The officer hesitated. "Understand these are purely routine questions we ask everyone in cases like this, but were you drinking alcohol at all?"

"What? No!"

"Any drugs? Pot? Anything?"

"No, I don't touch that stuff." She started to feel dizzy again.

"That's enough," said the paramedic.

The officer nodded and said, "All right. Sounds pretty routine. We'll probably still need to talk to you later, though."

A few days later she was down at MCPD answering more questions. Mabel was there looking angry and so was Jack with his "I'm so disappointed in you" look. Lori didn't want them there but, since she was a minor, a guardian had to be present during questioning. Thankfully Crystal was at home so Lori didn't have to look at her smug face.

"Are you sure you are telling me everything?" the officer asked again.

"Yes!" Lori insisted angrily. "I was lighting some candles and then I woke up outside."

"Ha!" Mabel sneered. "Admit it. You did it on purpose. You wanted to get back at us for some imagined wrong we've done."

"Mrs. Emerson, please let me direct the interview," the officer said tiredly. He turned back to Lori. "The fire marshal's report says this was not a candle fire. There was some kind of explosion."

"An explosion?" snapped Mabel, leaping to her feet. "You brought a bomb into my house?"

"Mrs. Emerson," the officer said sharply, "please let me handle this. If you interrupt again I will have to ask you to leave." Mabel sat back down with a sniff.

"As I was saying," he continued, "the fire marshal's report said there was some kind of explosion. There didn't appear to be an accelerant used--you know, gasoline or anything like that. But there was definite evidence of some kind of concussive force. Was there anything nearby that might have exploded in the heat? Aerosol cans for example. They explode if they are thrown into a fire."

Lori hugged herself tightly and felt like she was going to start crying. "No. Nothing like that. It was just some candles. I swear."

The officer opened a manila envelope and shook an object out into his hand. He laid it on the table in front of her. "Do you recognize this?"

She looked at it. It was a twisted lump of metal but it seemed familiar somehow. She picked it up and turned it over in her hands, catching sight of some of the gems. "Yes. It's a fire starter."

"Is it yours?"

"Yes. I stole it from the magic shop." She thought admitting to that would convince him she was telling the truth.

"Stole..." she heard Mabel start, but a glare from the officer shut her up.

Lori continued. "I was using it to light the candle. That's the last thing I remember."

"Were you doing any magic rituals? A lot of people your age experiment with magic."

She shook her head. "No. I just pushed the gem to light it."

He pushed back in his chair and studied her for a while. "And you are telling me everything? Holding back is just going to make things worse."

She gave him a pleading look. "Yes. Everything. I swear."

He nodded. Gently he said, "All right, I believe you. I'm not sure what happened, but maybe this device was just defective in some way. It's amazing you got out alive. You didn't even get your hair singed."

Lori started to feel relief, but then Mabel leapt up again. "You believe her? What are you, stupid? She admitted she was using that...that stolen thing. She's a thief! Arrest her."

"Honey," Jack started. "Calm down. He's just..."

"Calm down? Calm down? She burned down our house! We lost everything in that fire. What if we'd been home? She could have killed us. Is that what you want? We have to wait for one of us to die?" She turned to the officer and said, "I demand you arrest her. What do you call it? Arson! Yeah, she burned down our house. She admitted it. Send her to jail where she belongs."

"Don't tell me my job!" he snapped.

"Well she's your problem now. She's not coming with us. You deal with her!" Mabel stormed out, Jack hurrying after her.

Lori's relief had crumbled. She looked at the officer helplessly. He smiled at her. "Don't worry about it. You'll be fine."

She might have been, but Mabel kept screaming at people until someone listened. Some hotshot assistant DA who wanted to set himself up as tough on juvenile crime prosecuted the case. Mabel and Crystal flat out lied to the authorities, making up stories about past fires and saying they had never reported the incidents because they feared for their lives. Jack hemmed and hawed and sputtered but never contradicted what they said. By the end even the public defender seemed to think she was guilty. He convinced her to plead guilty to second degree arson and take the 30 days in jail.


	2. Jailbait

Lori nervously exited the building into the exercise yard. She had avoided mingling with the other prisoners since her arrival earlier in the day, other than her cell mate who ignored her, but now she felt like everyone was watching her. She knew that she should stand confidently but every time she tried she found herself sinking back into a cowering posture. It didn't take long for a gang of girls to notice.

"Hey, new meat," one said. "What are you in for?"

"Arson," she said, irritated at how weakly it came out. She saw no point in denying it anymore. Nobody was listening.

The girl snorted in derision. "Did you burn down your little doll house?" Lori didn't say anything. "Hey, I'm talking to you!"

The girls started to crowd in more closely. Lori was scared but didn't know what to do. She knew she should be strong but just wanted to curl up on the floor. Suddenly a voice shouted, "Back off!"

The bully looked over Lori's shoulder. "Who says I should?"

"We do," said the voice. The bully hesitated and then said, "Fine but get her out of our territory." The gang wandered off.

Lori turned to see another group of girls and they looked just as tough as unfriendly as the first. Lori got scared again but then one of them smiled at her. "Come on. Stick with us and you'll be OK." She beckoned Lori and walked off. Lori followed mostly because she didn't know where else to go.

"What's your name?"

"Lori."

"You really in for arson?"

"Yeah."

"Me too. We firebugs gotta stick together. They call me Pyro."

They approached some benches. Pyro took a seat and motioned for Lori to do the same. "When you come out into the yard, head over here. When people know you're with us they'll leave you alone."

"Um, okay." She hesitated, not wanting to offend her rescuer. "Why? I mean why are you helping me?"

Pyro shrugged. "Like I said, we firebugs gotta stick together." She studied Lori. "Look, you're going to need friends here. Not many can make it on their own and you don't seem like you're strong enough to go solo here."

"I guess," Lori said uncomfortably.

One of the other girls said, "The princess is too good for us." The others laughed and it wasn't a pleasant laugh.

"No," Lori said quickly. "It's not that. I'm just..." She trailed off.

Pyro said, "Relax, Lori. We're just teasing. You don't really strike me as a hardened criminal. Let me guess, you're innocent." The girls laughed again.

"I am," Lori said defensively before she could catch herself.

"Hey, fine with me. Everyone here is innocent." Lori frowned at the comment but Pyro just laughed again. "Look, maybe you are one of the ones who's _really_ innocent. I don't care one way or another."

Lori forced herself to relax. The girl really did seem to be reaching out. "Sorry," she said. "I honestly don't know. Maybe I really did it. I don't remember." She told Pyro the story and the girl listened attentively. When she was finished, out of courtesy, Lori asked, "So, what happened with you?"

Pyro looked at her very seriously and said, "Oh same thing as you. Except that I poured a bunch of kerosene around a Black Aces hideout and throw a Molotov into the place. You know, purely by accident."

Lori didn't even hear the jibe since she was focusing on something else Pyro had said. "Black Aces? Are you, um..."

"We're Maniacs," Pyro said.

Lori got scared again. She stuttered, "I had no idea."

"Well, they don't exactly let us wear our gear in here. Hey, don't worry about us. Don't believe all the stories you've heard. The truth is," she grinned evilly, "we're much worse than that. But I'll tell you what, I promise I won't eat your face off. Not today anyhow."

The two girls locked gazes for a second and then Lori suddenly started laughing. It was like her fear got so bad that it burned itself out. This girl was weird, and she liked weird. "OK, fair enough," she said, her voice still quavering just a little. 

Pyro laughed back. "Good, then we'll get along fine."

Lori found Pyro was right. As long as she hung out with the Maniacs, the other girls left her alone. Even the bully girl showed some deference now. She was surprised that the Maniac girls were really just girls--strange girls, but still just people.

Lori talked to Pyro about fire. She had never met anyone who understood her point of view. One day they had sneaked off to one of the corners of the jail the guards seemed to have forgotten about. Prisoners came here for a lot of reasons that involved privacy--drugs, sex, violence. Sometimes, as in this case, it was just a nice place to talk without anyone listening in.

"Fire is beautiful," Lori said. "It's pure. It doesn't judge. It doesn't choose sides. It doesn't accept or reject you. It just is. It warms. It lights. It burns. It destroys. It gives life and it takes life."

Pyro nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I like that. You say it better than I can. It...it cleans things. It clears away what's bad. You know?"

"Exactly. It wipes the slate clean so you can build again."

"Right. See that's what it did for you," Pyro said. Lori was puzzled and the other girl continued. "You hated that house, right?" Lori nodded. "So why are you upset it burned down? You should be happy. You should have loved seeing that place in flames."

Lori thought about it. Now that Pyro mentioned it, she realized that underneath the confusion and shock she had felt a sort of exhilaration seeing the smoking rubble of her home. "I guess you're right. That place sucked. I'm free now." She shook her head. "Here in jail, I'm free."

"The fire burned away your chains."

Lori started laughing. "And all of Crystal's clothes got burned up. Oh and those stupid dolls. She had this collection of these ugly little dolls. She'd play little tea parties with them. My god, she's seventeen and she still would play tea parties with the dolls. And they all burned in the fire." She was laughing so hard tears were flowing. "And Mabel's cookbooks. That woman could burn a pot of boiling water, but she bought every cookbook on earth. And they all burned up just like every meal she made."

Both girls were laughing now. Their laughter faded and they basked in the moment. Pyro broke the silence, saying, "You know I go home tomorrow."

"I know," Lori said. She had been dreading this, but she was established with the other Maniacs. She'd be fine for her remaining ten days.

Pyro reached into a pocket. "I wanted to give you something." She handed it over.

Lori looked in wonder at the cheap little plastic lighter. "Wow. Thank you." She flicked it on and watched the flame.

"Don't let the guards catch you with that," Pyro cautioned.

"Of course not," Lori said, mesmerized. She reached out to feel the heat from the fire. As she did the flame danced, curling around her finger.

Pyro frowned at her. "How did you do that?"

"Me? I didn't do it. Must be air currents or something."

Pyro studied her. "I know fire. Fire doesn't do that. You're not like a mutant or something, are you? Cause that'd be awesome."

Lori clicked off the lighter. "Geez, I wish. Can you imagine how great it would be to have fire at your fingertips? Literally?"

"Yeah, that'd be cool," Pyro said, but she kept giving Lori a funny look. After a moment she shrugged it off. "Where are you going when you get out?"

Lori shrugged. "I suppose the state will stick me in another sucky foster home. Or a group home. I don't know."

Pyro snorted. "Fuck that. Come stay with us Maniacs. We'll put you up."

Lori hesitated. Even though she liked the girls she'd met she was still a little leery about the stories she'd heard about gang life. Then again she didn't really have anywhere to go. "Well, maybe." She grinned. "But remember you said you wouldn't eat my face off."

"Hey, that was just for that one day. No promises anymore."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea how jails work, other than what I've seen in movies or the NatGeo series Hard Time, and the latter are real prisons not little kid jails for teen offenders. This chapter is probably harder core than real juvenile detention centers.
> 
> FOR THOSE UNFAMILIAR WITH THE FANDOM  
> 
> 
>   * I'll add occasional end notes to help orient people who might not be familiar with the Champions fandom.
>   * The city is Millennium City, built on the ruins of Detroit after that city was destroyed by Dr. Destroyer in the Battle of Detroit about 15 years ago. Westside is one of the city's districts. It's a poor area and many of the buildings destroyed in that battle have not been rebuilt. It's also has a number of powerful street gangs, including the Maniacs.
> 



	3. She's a Maniac!

Lori was a little nervous as she walked the streets of Westside, but less so that she had been on her first day of jail. She was carrying a duffel bag that held all her possessions--which amounted to pretty much nothing since everything had been lost in the fire. It hadn't been hard to slip away from the social worker after getting out of jail. Lori didn't have a history of running away so the woman hadn't been on her guard. Lori hoped she didn't get into trouble over it.

She spotted some Maniacs. It was one thing to see them in prison looking like normal people, but here on the street dressed like something from a slasher movie was something different. She wished Pyro had given her an address or more specific information. Still, Lori felt a lot better about approaching the three guys lounging on the corner than she would have a month ago.

"Hey," she said with a greeting nod. "Any of you know Pyro? I'm trying to find her."

They seemed taken aback by her directness. One of them puffed up and said, "Aren't you scared, slag? You're in Maniac territory."

"Really?" She looked over his outfit of leather and spikes and his Hannibal Lecter mask. "I figured you guys were entertainment for kids' parties."

The other two guys snickered and the first one glared at her. "My psychiatrist used to tell me I was crazy. Until the voices told me to kill him." Lori tried unsuccessfully to suppress a smile.

One of the other Maniacs shook his head. "Dude, seriously. You try too hard." He turned to Lori and jerked his thumb down the street. "She usually hangs around the basketball courts two blocks that way."

"Thanks." She turned to the first Maniac, who looked embarrassed. "Really, I was petrified. Nearly peed myself. Promise."

The other guys laughed. The helpful one said, "Yeah, you're definitely one of Pyro's friends."

As Lori walked away she felt good. She'd probably just made an enemy but also made two friends. More importantly, her voice hadn't quavered. She had stood up to guys who scared her and made one look foolish. As she walked through the slummy neighborhood she realized she was happier now than she had been in a long time. Maybe ever.

She found the basketball courts easily and looked out over the crowd of bizarrely-clad Maniacs looking for a familiar face. She asked one of the gang members and he pointed her towards a cluster of people. Lori approached them hesitantly, none of them looking familiar. Suddenly one of them jumped up and called out, "Lori! You came!"

Lori peered at her. "Pyro?" she asked uncertainly.

"Yeah, it's me. Do you like it?" She posed for effect. Her face was hidden by a leather scarecrow mask. She wore a tattered overcoat over a grungy plaid shirt and ratty jeans. She a pistol on her hip but Lori's eye was drawn to the axe on her back. She wondered if that was real blood on the edge.

"Scary as shit," Lori said hesitantly.

"Hey, it's just me under here. Come on there are some people I want you to meet. Hey, everyone. This is the one I was telling you about." She introduced Lori to several of the other gang members but she quickly got overwhelmed. Although they all dressed dramatically only a few had taken names like Pyro or Slasher. Most of them still used their old names, or at least names that sounded like normal names.

"You here to stay?" Pyro asked.

Lori shrugged. "If the offer's still open."

"Of course. Come on let's get you a room. Oh and there's someone else who wants to meet you."

"Who?"

"You'll see," Pyro said, grinning. At least Lori thought she was grinning. She couldn't see past the face of the scarecrow mask.

Pyro led her to one of the many ruined buildings in the area. She snorted. "Biselle crows about how miraculously the city was rebuilt after the Battle of Detroit. Maybe he should come down here into the slums and see how 'rebuilt' things are. Politicians. Useless. Kill 'em all I say."

Lori just laughed nervously. This was a side of Pyro she hadn't seen before.

"This is our headquarters. For now at least. We have to move it around sometimes as the cops or the other gangs find it. Come on, through here. Hey, Zoe! Here's that girl I was telling you about. Lori, this is Zoe Loft, leader of the Maniacs."

The woman was about thirty dressed in a military jacket, combat boots and fishnet stockings. Her hair was pulled into spikes and she had straps across her face in random patterns. She eyed Lori with a predatory look that made the girl distinctly uncomfortable. This was the first of the Maniacs Lori found herself really afraid of rather than just nervous around.

"Welcome to our little home, young one. Pyro has told me a lot about you. Especially about a little incident with a lighter."

Lori frowned, having no idea what she was talking about. Then it dawned on her. "What, that?" She looked at Pyro and then back at Zoe. "Pyro's making too much out of it. It was just some kind of air current or something."

"Show me," Zoe said.

Lori hesitated but this was clearly a woman you didn't say no to. She fished in her pocket and pulled out the lighter. She flicked it on. "I was just holding it like this."

"No," Pyro said. "You put your hand out like you were going to grab the flame. And you were staring into it. Your eyes were unfocused."

"Well, yeah but..."

"Do it," Zoe said.

Lori looked into the flame and relaxed her mind. There was something meditative about the flicker. She held out her hand and felt the heat. Nothing happened. She found herself a little afraid of what Zoe would do if she couldn't perform some kind of trick so she concentrated more intensely on the flame. It started to move. A tendril reached out towards her hand and brushed it. Lori was surprised and her concentration wavered. Suddenly she felt the heat and cried out. She dropped the lighter and the fire went out.

Zoe was giving her a smile that was anything but comforting. "Welcome to the Maniacs, child. I think you have a great future here."

Over the next couple of weeks Zoe pushed her to explore her power and slowly Lori was able to do more. It wasn't much--she could move a small flame around with gestures--but it was a start. The more she worked with fire, the more of a connection she felt and the more she was able to do. She became confident that with time she'd be able to do more.

Zoe didn't leave her much time to herself, driving her mercilessly to train and become stronger. However with what little time she got, Lori researched the concept of superpowers in the hope of understanding why she could do the things she could. Unfortunately she got few answers. It could be any number of things: mutation, psychic power, magic. She even wondered if she could be an alien. She had supposedly been orphaned when her parents were killed during the Battle of Detroit, and had owned a picture of them that had been lost in the house fire. However she knew nobody who claimed to have known them and for all she knew it was a story made up by someone to cover up her real identity.

She realized that "superpowers" was almost certainly an overstatement. Lots of people showed unusual abilities but weren't able to do more than little parlor tricks. That possibility made her nervous. Zoe expected great things from her and Lori was afraid of what might happen if she was disappointed.

Finally it was Pyro who got Zoe to give Lori some time off, convincing her that exhausting the girl would only weaken her. After all even body builders had to take days off to let their muscles grow stronger. Lori's first day off was spent on a Maniac makeover. She couldn't be part of the gang looking like her old self so she and Pyro set out to give her a new appearance. They played around with a lot of ideas until Lori was satisfied.

She eyed herself in the mirror, barely recognizing the girl looking back. Her hair stuck out from her skull in ropy spikes. Her face was hidden behind the makeup of a creepy clown. Her clothing was a mixture of torn denim, leather straps and lots of spikes. It looked like she'd cobbled together pieces of scrap metal from a junk yard, which in fact she had. She nodded approvingly. "I like it," she said.

"Me too," said Pyro.

"What about names?" Lori asked. "Do you think I should take another name?"

Pyro shrugged. "Up to you. Some people do. People on the run. Other reasons."

"What about you?"

Pyro shifted a bit. "I didn't like my old name."

"What was it?"

"Oh no. Maybe once we've been friends for about a hundred years, but nobody knows my real name now." Quickly she said, "Did you have another name in mind?"

"Well, yeah. I've been kind of thinking about it. My old name doesn't mean anything to me. I have no family or anything so I was thinking of starting fresh."

Pyro waited and then said, "So? What name did you want?"

Lori looked back into the mirror. "Cataclysm," she said.

"Cataclysm," Pyro repeated slowly. "Awesome! I love it!"

Cataclysm grinned at her reflection.


	4. Defending Gang Turf

The shaky video showed several reddish ships moving through the sky. The reporter said, "The Qularr craft appear to be focusing on City Center and Downtown. They've already destroyed City Hall and Champions Headquarters is under siege by a large force of ships and ground troops. The mother ship is hovering almost directly over the Champions building." On the screen the Qularr ships strafed the barricades below and a police car exploded.

The Maniacs cheered. Zoe Loft shouted "Cop car blown up. Everybody take a shot!"

As everyone gleefully took a drink the reporter continued. "Police and PRIMUS troops have set up barricades, trying to secure key targets, but the sudden attack appears to have left them confused and disorganized. The mayor's location is currently unknown and local commanders are coordinating as best they can." The camera stayed on the barricades as a force of insectoid soldiers charged the police. There was a withering exchange of fire and the Qularr fell back, to the disappointed groans of the gang.

In the back of the room, one person didn't seem to be enjoying the festivities. Cataclysm ran her eyes over the crowd with a scowl. The television continued blaring. "The Champions have all fallen back to the Champions building and Defender has put out a call for all superheroes to join in the defense of the city. One commander, who wished to remain anonymous, said that Millennium City forces are making their last stand. If help doesn't arrive then even the Champions may not be able to stop this invasion. Since the Qularr have apparently attacked multiple cities across the globe, reinforcements seem unlikely. We may be watching the end of the Champions."

Another cheer went up from the Maniacs, and that was too much for Cataclysm. She flung a hand out and sent a blast of fire into the television, showering nearby Maniacs in flaming debris. Gang members leapt to their feet angrily.

Zoe stood slowly and turned to face her. "Do you have a problem, little firefly?"

"What are we doing here?" Cataclysm demanded. "Why aren't we out there fighting the bugs?"

Zoe laughed a nerve-grating cackle. "Fight? For what? The aliens have left Westside alone. What do we care if they kill a few cops and superheroes?"

"And where do you think they'll go when they are done with the capes? They've stayed out of Westside because we don't pose a threat. Once they've broken the city's defenses, they'll come after us." She shook her head. "We'll beat the shit out of an Ace who walks down the wrong side of the street, but we're going to stand by and do nothing while the whole city gets destroyed?"

"Why do you care? You've always said you were going to burn this city to the ground some day."

Cataclysm stalked forward. "Exactly." She thumped her chest. " _I_ will burn this city down someday. It's my city to burn. But I'm not going to let a bunch of fucking cockroaches do it. Dammit, we have to defend our turf. If the capes can't stop the bugs today, then what chance do we have when they come for Westside tomorrow? We have to stop them now, in City Center, or we lose everything." She turned to the rest of the group. "Who's with me?"

There was an awkward silence. Cataclysm looked over the crowd for one friendly face. Most of them wouldn't even make eye contact. Even Pyro had suddenly found the floor quite fascinating. Cataclysm's heart sank. "Really?" she said. "Nobody?" She whirled on Zoe. "Fine, but I'm going."

Zoe sneered, "And what will you do when you get there?"

"They say the mother ship is over the Champions building. I'm going to head up there and blow the fucker out of the sky."

"All by yourself?" She turned to the gang. "And they call _me_ crazy!" The Maniacs laughed.

Cataclysm hesitated. Her abilities had grown in her five years with the Maniacs. She didn't need an external flame anymore. Should could pull fire right out of the air, but her power had hit a plateau about a year ago. She didn't really have any illusions that she was anywhere near strong enough to knock out the ship, but said, "I'm going to try. I'm not going to cower in the rubble crying for my mommy."

Zoe's face darkened. "Your place is here, with the rest of us. If the aliens invade our turf, we fight. As long as they leave us alone it's not gang business."

The two women locked gazes and Cataclysm hesitated, but then said, "You do what you want. I'm going to fight." She turned and headed for the door. Over her shoulder she said, "I'll wait for five minutes in case any of you have the balls to come with me."

She actually waited fifteen minutes but nobody came. She headed off alone.

* * *

The news had said the tunnels to RenCen were collapsed so she stole a car and headed north to take the ramp up to Michigan Avenue. She had planned to drive right to the Champions Building, which might have been a good plan yesterday when Michigan was a wide and well-traveled traffic artery. Now it was pitted with craters, covered in rubble, littered with empty cars and blocked by abandoned police barricades. She abandoned the car at the top of the ramp and headed out on foot.

She stayed off the street, instead moving from cover to cover. She was surprised there were no Qularr here but the fighting had obviously passed through already. She had gone about a block before seeing her first aliens. She was moving through a shattered building and saw them through a crack in the wall. It was a patrol of three of them. Although they walked on two legs they had insectoid features: compound eyes, large mandibles and a thick exoskeleton. She hadn't seen anything like the devices they were carrying, but she knew a gun when she saw one. She debated about letting them pass but she was going to have to fight them eventually. She might as well see how her fire powers worked against them.

Cataclysm moved toward a doorway and waited for them to pass. Then she stepped out and fire shot from her hands. She slammed one with a bolt and it collapsed instantly. The others turned but she was able to blast a second one before he could fire. As the third raised his weapon she ducked back through the doorway. Energy bolts splattered against the wall. She crouched low and rolled out of the doorway. She blasted the Qularr twice and it fell.

She stopped to examine the bodies, specifically the wounds she had made. It looked like her fire had cut through their chitin easily. That armor might help with bullets but it didn't look like much of a defense against her powers. That was good, but she cautioned herself not to get cocky.

Cataclysm continued to move through the ruined city. She could hear the sounds of battle far ahead--the explosions as Qularr ships continued to strafe targets of opportunity--but she realized she could hear small arms fire from nearby. The sound was coming from the north and it would be out of her way, but she decided to see who was still fighting the bugs in the area.

She jogged to the edge of a building. The sound of gunfire was coming from right around the corner. She carefully peered around the wall and could see a squad of MCPD behind some rubble exchanging fire with a half-dozen Qularr soldiers. It looked like at least two of the cops were down. They had a good defensible position but probably couldn't hold out much longer. She started to withdraw and then hesitated. Under normal circumstances she'd be fine with leaving the cops to die, but she had to admit she found the cockroaches _slightly_ more disgusting than the cops. She continued to argue with herself but she was just wasting time. "For fuck's sake," she mumbled as she moved out to take cover behind a car.

The Qularr didn't see her approaching since their attention was focused on the cops. She came up on their side and waited until she was in a position where they were nice and exposed, and then lay down a barrage of fire bolts. The bugs turned in surprise but that simply exposed them to fire from the cops. The Qularr were all down in seconds.

"Who's there?" came a shout.

Cataclysm turned to leave without answering and she saw another group of Qularr jogging down the street. "Shit," she said with feeling. She was too exposed out here. "More bugs on the way!" she shouted. "I'm coming in."

The Qularr started firing, forcing Cataclysm to stay low as she approached the police unit. She sprinted across the last bit of open space and threw herself down behind the barricade. The three cops did a collective double take and suddenly she had three guns pointed in her direction.

She stared at them in silence for a second as the fury bubbled up in her. She growled, "So are you arresting me?"

One of the cops, a sergeant, said, "Stand down, men. She's not the enemy today." They turned their attention back to the approaching Qularr and Cataclysm added her flame bolts to their gunfire. The bugs didn't last long against the combined attack.

They hunkered down behind the low wall. The sergeant turned to her. "Thanks for the help. I'm Sergeant MacAvoy."

Cataclysm sneered at him but offered, "Cataclysm."

He looked stunned. "Cataclysm?"

She frowned. "You know me?"

"Not exactly. I have a friend who works the Westside beat. He says there are only three people in the Maniacs to be afraid of: Zoe Loft, Rid Len and you." Cataclysm felt a little twinge of pride at that. MacAvoy waved his hand dismissively. "Well, whatever differences we've had before, we're on the same side now, right?"

"I'm not sure I'd say that," she said. He looked at her warily so she rolled her eyes and said, "Fine, I won't kill any cops today. Happy?"

He didn't answer directly, instead saying, "You headed for the Champions building?"

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

"Defender's called for all superher-" he caught himself. "Um, superpowered individuals to gather at Champions for a final stand."

She shook her head. "You guys sure are doing a piss-poor job of defending the city."

She expected to get a rise out of him but he just nodded gloomily. "Communications are being jammed and our command structure is compromised. The Qularr hit City Hall on one of their early runs. Mayor Biselle got out but he left behind his emergency response laptop and defense codes. Without those, he can't access the hardened communication frequencies, can't activate automated city defense weaponry, can't access invasion defense plans." MacAvoy sighed. "We were sent out to get to City Hall to recover them, but Qularr resistance is heavier than expected. And we're all shot up now so..." He shook his head as he trailed off. Suddenly he stared at Cataclysm intently. "Would you help us? With your help I'll bet we could break through."

"I don't work with cops!" she snapped. "Just because I'm not burning you alive doesn't mean we are going to go out for coffee and braid each others' hair."

MacAvoy's face fell. "Oh. Yeah, I guess I'd feel the same way about working with a bunch of Maniacs. Well, thanks for your help. You better get along to Champions HQ before the final battle starts. We better get on our way." He turned to scan the streets.

Cataclysm hesitated. She didn't know if the two cops where were down were dead or just too hurt to move. The three left were wounded. And yet they were still going to try to push through. "That stuff is really that important?"

He nodded. "It could turn the tide. If nothing else it will give us more time. Ironclad is putting together some kind of big weapon outside of Champions but I don't think he's going to have time to finish it. Those codes could give us that time."

Cataclysm tapped a black fingernail rapidly against a chunk of concrete as her mind raced. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," she finally said. "Fine, I'll go."

MacAvoy smiled. "Great. Men, prepare to move out. I figure our best chance-"

"Whoa!" she said. "I said _I'll_ go. You can just run along to the donut shop or something."

"Hey I can't authorize-"

"That's your choice. Either I go or you go. I really don't give a fuck either way."

Now it was his turn to drum his fingers nervously. He reached into a pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. "This is the combination to the mayor's safe. It's in his office under his desk." He didn't hand it to her. "Look, I'm trusting you. This is important. The whole city could depend on this."

Cataclysm was getting impatient with his hesitation, but grudgingly had to admit she understood his mistrust. "My friends live in this city, too," she said. "I may not care whether you live or die, but I do care whether they do."

"Fair enough," he admitted. He handed the paper over reluctantly. She stuffed it in a pocket and then poked her head up to see if the street was clear. He put his hand on her shoulder and said, "Thanks for your help, Cataclysm."

Without turning around she said, "You touch me again, cop, and you'll be pulling back a smoldering stump."

He pulled his hand away. "The mayor has set up a temporary command post in the basement of the building east of Mercy General. I'll tell them you're coming."

Cataclysm didn't even nod. Seeing the street was clear, she stood and started towards City Hall, staying low.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since Millennium City is supposed to be Detroit, place names and street names are taken off maps of that city. They may be called something different in Champions lore.
> 
> FOR THOSE UNFAMILIAR WITH THE FANDOM  
> 
> 
>   * PRIMUS is a paramilitary government organization created to fight supervillains.
>   * The Champions are the local superhero group. Members are Defender, Witchcraft, Ironclad, Sapphire and Kinetik.
> 



	5. The Key to the City

As Cataclysm traveled, she realized she should have asked for directions. She knew roughly where City Hall was but this wasn't her part of town. The fact that most of the landmarks were piles of rubble didn't help, nor did the fact she had to duck patrols of Qularr. She wasn't afraid of the fight but she didn't want them knowing a metahuman was in the area, nor that she was headed for City Hall.

In the end she didn't so much find City Hall as she did find Grand Circus Park right in front of it. There was some kind of Qularr camp there, though not many of the bugs around. A ship hovered over the area and she hoped it didn't have any kind of sensors that could see her. Behind the park was City Hall, and Cataclysm couldn't help smirking at the ruin that stood there, though from here the damage didn't seem too bad. Her smirk faded when she realized she could see movement. The bugs appeared to be going through the rubble.

There weren't many patrols in the area, presumably because the humans had already been cleared out. She circled around to the west, staying in cover and darting across open areas as quickly as she could. There was enough cover that she was able to get across Park Avenue without being seen.

She watched the ruins for a long time. There actually weren't as many Qularr as she had first thought. If she was careful she might be able to get in and out before they realized anyone was around, though she was fairly certain she'd have to fight. She wished she knew where the mayor's office was. She might be able to go in a window if she did. Well it shouldn't be too hard to find. Just look for the most absurdly oversized and over-decorated space in the building.

Finally she had to admit her "reconnaissance" was just procrastination. She'd seen what she needed to see so it was time to go in.

She went through a shattered wall into office on the west side of the building. The floor was covered in rubble and her heavy boots didn't make it easy to move quietly. She heard a hiss from outside the door and knew she'd already been discovered.

Cataclysm burst out through the door and sent fire shooting towards the first shape she saw. There were two of them. She fired bolts from each hand, taking them out quickly, but she could hear chittering and the click of chitin on stone. She ran the other way, her footsteps thudding loudly on the hard floor. Her hope was to keep them guessing about her as long as possible.

She came around a corner and the corridor opened up into the main hall, an enormous space with a domed ceiling that was now broken open to show the sky. There were about a dozen Qularr there and they all turned when she noisily burst into the area. She slammed fire into the closest one, dropping it, and then backed into the corridor. She looked back the way she had come but knew that wasn't a way out. If they trapped her here she was doomed. She leaned out and peppered the approaching horde with fire. They had no cover other than a little ruined furniture so they charged her. She knew that gave her the advantage. They were exposed while she was behind a corner, and their movement would throw their accuracy off while she had time to aim. She'd been in enough fights to know the key was not to panic. She calmly sighted on each target and took it out, not letting the Qularr energy bolts striking nearby distract her.

One lucky shot seared her neck and her concentration wavered but she resumed firing as they closed. There were too many. She wasn't going to be able to drop them before they were on her. She debated running back to the next corner, but if this degenerated to a firefight from cover she was doomed. She pulled back for a moment to get them to stop firing, and then rolled out into the hall. She barked her elbow badly on the marble floor but continued her roll, coming up on her knees so both hands were free. She released twin barrages of fire and was able to take the remaining four bugs down.

The side of her neck was in agony and her elbow ached but she couldn't stop. She scanned the area and spotted the elevator. Obviously that wouldn't be working, but nearby were the two things she needed: stairs and a directory. She leapt to her feet and ran over. Biselle's name was in big letters at the top of the directory and she saw his office was on the top floor. That might be a problem since much of the top floor was destroyed. She pushed open the door and bolted up stairs.

At the top she cracked open the door and listened. She couldn't hear anything. Fearing it was a trap, she opened the door and poked her head out for just a second before snatching it back. Nothing. She peered out again for a longer look, looking over a foyer in front of the elevators. A hallway led away and split into two paths around the central dome, or at least where it used to be. Half the dome and one side of the top floor were gone now.

She moved out into the corridor and the ground creaked alarmingly. She wondered if that was why there seemed to be no Qularr up here. You'd have to be insane to wander around the top floor of such a structurally unsound building. That made Cataclysm the right one for the job.

Still on her guard against both Qularr and shifting architecture, she moved down the hall, flexing her arm to work out the ache from where she'd slammed her elbow into the floor. The corridor to the right ended where the side of the building had been torn away so she turned left. Now that she was near the railing that overlooked the main hall she could hear movement from the main hall so knew they were probably looking for her. She stayed close to the wall and crouched over so she couldn't be spotted over the railing by Qularr on lower floors. The floor was carpeted so her footsteps were softer than they had been on the tile below.

The corridor turned right and led to shattered glass doors that led to city offices. Glass crunched under her boots as she stepped over the shattered doors. According to the sign behind the receptionist's desk she should go left, so she did.

She passed other offices and looked into the ones with open doors, but she was becoming confident that she was the only one crazy enough to be up here. The floor shifted under her more than once, which set her heart racing. She knew the noise probably wouldn't alert the Qularr over all the other creaking and shifting going on in the structure. She made it to the mayor's office without incident.

The room was large and lavishly furnished, designed to impress visitors. This visitor just curled her lip at the waste. She crossed to the oversized desk and looked underneath. It took her a moment to find what she was searching for because she had expected the safe to be set into the desk; it was actually set into the floor. She pulled out the piece of paper she'd gotten from MacAvoy and punched in the number indicated. The safe opened with a clunk and the door opened smoothly.

She pulled out everything inside. She might be saving the city but if there was anything valuable in there she wasn't going to leave it for the bugs. Sadly it was just papers and other junk of no use to her. She grabbed the laptop and briefcase and stood back up.

Cataclysm didn't want to go back into the heart of the Qularr, especially now that they were looking for her, so she eyed the office window. She leaned out and scanned the street. Nothing was moving. She was a little turned around but finally figured out she was looking out the north side of the building. The Qularr were focused on the south so might not have any presence up here. Unfortunately she also didn't see a way down that didn't involve a long drop and a sudden stop.

She braced herself against the wall, testing to be sure it was sturdy, and leaned out of the broken window. She craned her head, wincing at the burn on her neck, to see if there was a way down from another window. One of the trees behind the building had fallen over and smashed into one of the top floor offices. That looked like her best chance.

She pulled her head in and quickly made her way three offices down, where the tree had smashed through the window. She looked over her escape route and saw a host of problems: the broken glass surrounding the opening, the tree itself which wasn't well-anchored and would probably shift under her weight, and the problem of climbing down a precariously leaning tree while holding a briefcase and laptop.

She used the briefcase to knock away as much of the broken glass as she could and then leaned out to look down. Directly below was a strip of grass and flower beds. Beyond that was an iron fence, and on the other side of the fence was a concrete sidewalk. She could drop the briefcase and it should be fine as long as it hit the grass. The laptop she was less sure of. The case was thickly padded but she wasn't sure the computer could survive a four-story drop.

She dropped the case into the flower bed. The plants made for a soft landing and again she debated about the laptop, but finally slung the case over her shoulder and pulled herself out onto the tree. The tree shifted slightly and she tensed up but it settled and she resumed her descent.

The tree was meant for decoration and not climbing. There were lots of branches, but rather than offering plenty of hand and foot holds they merely served to block her progress and tangle the laptop strap. She grew increasingly frustrated as she descended, slapping and kicking at the branches in her way. She didn't want to burn them off because she was afraid of both attracting attention and lighting the tree on fire.

She was most of the way down when the laptop slipped off her shoulder. Reflexively, she grabbed for it and lost her grip on both the tree and the computer, the latter dropping away from her. A branch caught her leg, turning her so she fell head first. She looked down to see the points of the iron fence coming up fast. She twisted, managed to kick off the trunk of the tree to avoid the fence and land face first on the sidewalk next to it.

Her head was swimming and she tasted blood. She forced herself to sit up and shake her head to clear it. She reached up and probed her mouth. Her teeth were intact, though her lip was swelling. She shrugged it off, having had worse injuries, and looked around. The laptop had managed a soft landing in the flowers. She pulled herself over the fence, grabbed the briefcase and laptop, and then climbed back out of the flower bed. She looked around for Qularr and, seeing none, she darted across the street to the ruined buildings on the other side.

Cataclysm ached from head to toe. Maybe it was the distraction from that, or maybe she was getting sloppy after not seeing Qularr for so long, but she didn't realize she was in trouble until something hit her in the back hard enough to knock her off her feet. She rolled over to see two Qularr standing over her. She didn't know where they had come from and didn't care. As one lifted its foot to kick her she lashed out with fire. They didn't go down quite as easily as the ones she'd seen so far, but they did go down.

She got up with a groan. She felt a sharp pain in her back when she breathed, which probably wasn't a good thing but there was nothing she could do right then. "What the fuck am I doing here?" she said, more loudly than she probably should have. She leaned over with a grunt to pick up the laptop and briefcase.

"Hello?" came a woman's voice. "Is someone there? Um, someone human that is?"

Cataclysm looked around. This didn't seem like a Qularr trick--they weren't that subtle--and certainly the noise of the fight would have alerted any bugs in the area already, so she called out, "Where are you?'

"Here!" cried the voice. Cataclysm heard pounding. "I came into the store room to hide but the door's jammed and I can't get out."

Cataclysm followed the voice to a door. "Okay, okay," she said impatiently. "Stop pounding. You'll attract the bugs." She cleared away two large beams that had fallen and then looked at the door. "The hinge is bent. I'll have to blow it off. Stand back from the door."

"Okay."

Cataclysm blasted the hinge twice to separate it from the frame and then struggled to get the warped door open. The woman's voice said, "These aliens are really creeping me out, you know? Can we get out of here? Please? Regular bugs scare me, the aliens totally give me the heebie-jeebies." The door finished opening to reveal Cataclysm and the woman shrieked in horror and scurried back into the dingy store room. "Don't hurt me, don't hurt me, don't hurt me," she cried.

"Shut _up_!" Cataclysm snarled. "I'm not going to hurt you but if you keep screaming the bugs will find us." The woman quieted down but continued to whimper as she looked at Cataclysm in fear. She was blonde, about twenty, and dressed in a blue jacket and skirt. "Come on," Cataclysm said tiredly.

"What are you going to do with me?" she asked uncertainly.

"Look," Cataclysm said impatiently. "You can come with me or you can stay here until the bugs come. I don't care." The woman didn't answer and was clearly debating the lesser of evils, but finally nodded and hesitantly stepped forward.

Cataclysm shoved the briefcase and laptop at her. "Carry these," she said.

The girl took them and saw the city seal. "Oh, you know the mayor? Because I know-"

"I don't want your life story," Cataclysm snapped. "Just be quiet and follow me."

The girl came out and gasped at the two dead Qularr outside. "I hate bugs!" she said emphatically.

Cataclysm paused at the door to survey the street and then dashed across to the next building. She looked back and the woman was having trouble keeping up. Cataclysm looked down and realized the blonde was wearing heels--low business heels rather than ankle-breaking hooker heels, but still they made it hard for her to move quickly especially on the uneven ground. Cataclysm sighed and waited for her to catch up.

Progress was slow but they made their way from building to building, staying out of sight. One time, while waiting for the girl to catch up, Cataclysm spotted another three-bug patrol. She crouched down to let them pass but then the girl saw them. She shrieked, "AHHHH! Aliens!" and turned and bolted.

"Stop!" Cataclysm yelled. "Don't run!" but the girl wasn't listening. She could move pretty fast in those heels after all. "Oh, for fuck's sake," Cataclysm sighed.

This of course had alerted the bugs so Cataclysm had to deal with them first. They were in the open and she was in cover so she wasn't in any real danger, but it wasted that much more time. When the bugs were down Cataclysm headed in the direction the girl had fled.

Cataclysm hoped she had just run to the first hiding place and stopped. She wasn't prepared to search all of City Center for her. She peered into the first building and called out, "Hey, stupid blonde girl. You in here?" She heard crying so entered the building.

She found the girl huddled in a corner, sobbing and hugging the briefcase and laptop. "What the fuck were you thinking?" Cataclysm snapped. This just made the girl cry harder.

Cataclysm forced herself to take a deep breath and calm down. She crouched down next to the girl and patted her arm clumsily. "Look, it's okay," she said. "I got 'em. We're safe." The girl stopped crying but wouldn't look at her. Searching for a way to quiet the girl's anxiety, Cataclysm said "What's your name?"

"Melanie."

"I'm Cataclysm." She sighed. "Look, where I come from fear is weakness, and weakness gets you killed. So we learn to express it as hostility." Melanie looked at her but then looked away. "Plus I'm in an amazing amount of pain and it's making me cranky." Melanie relaxed a little more. "Now I suppose you want me to say that beneath this creepy makeup is a girl like you who thinks about guys and shopping and vampire novels. Well, I'm not. What I am is exactly the kind of scary and vicious bitch you need to get you out of here. And I will get you out of here. But you have to do what I say. All right?"

Melanie finally looked at her and nodded.

Cataclysm continued, "I know you're scared, but we don't have far to go. You hear that gunfire?" Melanie listened and nodded. Cataclysm said, "Those aren't Qularr guns. That means it's cops or PRIMUS. They're close." The girl relaxed a little more. "I can get you out of here but you have to do exactly what I say, okay?"

"Okay," she choked out.

"Stay close to me. Don't run. It's okay to get down behind cover, but if you run away I can't protect you, right? And if I tell you to do something, then do it right away. Got it?"

"Got it," Melanie said weakly.

"Good. Now let's go." The stood up and Cataclysm moved to the door. She stopped to check outside and Melanie ran into her. Cataclysm gritted her teeth and said, as nicely as she could manage, "Melanie, I need you to stay a little _less_ close than that."

"Sorry."

Cataclysm was about to step into the street when she heard a sound. It was almost like a baby crying. She turned her head back and forth until she located it. She didn't want to be saddled with another refugee but she figured she should check it out.

As she neared the sound she realized it wasn't a baby. It was a cat yowling. It wasn't hard to find. It was in a carrier that was sitting in the middle of the street, probably dropped by a fleeing owner. Cataclysm frowned and surveyed the area carefully but there didn't seem to be any bugs around. She stepped over and peered into the carrier. The cat eyed her and hissed. "Yeah, I hear ya," Cataclysm said.

She picked up the cage and handed it to Melanie. "Carry this,"

Melanie shifted the other two cases to one hand and struggled to take the carrier. "Why do I have to carry everything?" she whined.

Before she could catch herself, Cataclysm snapped, "You're right. I'll carry stuff and you can fight the Qularr for a while." Melanie wilted under her fury. Cataclysm again forced herself to calm down. "If we are going to get out of here, we are going to have to work together. This," she pointed to the cases, "is critical to the city's defense. This," she pointed to the pet carrier, "is a helpless animal in need of rescue. Like you. I need you to take care of them so I can focus on fighting. Okay?"

"Um, yeah. Okay."

The cat had stopped yowling, which Cataclysm was grateful for. The sound didn't bother her but she didn't want to attract any bugs in the area. Luckily, they didn't encounter any more, at least until they got close to the barricades.

Cataclysm watched the place from the cover of a building. Should could see about a dozen MARS cops and a woman wearing the uniform of the Silver Avengers. They were in a well fortified position but they were being assaulted by a force of Qularr. These were huge bugs, much larger than the ones Cataclysm had seen so far, and they seemed almost crazed. They carried no weapons but fought hand to hand and with a viciousness that was threatening to break through the barricade. "Stay here," she said. 

She stepped out and slammed fire into the Qularr from behind. It took a half-dozen shots to take down each bug and none of them even did her the courtesy of turning around. They were totally focused on breaking through the fortification. That just made it easier for Cataclysm to cut them down.

"Let's go," she said to Melanie. The girl stepped out and they started towards the police line. Suddenly the Silver Avenger started beckoning urgently and pointing behind them. Cataclysm turned to see another dozen of the huge Qularr thundering down the road. She grabbed Melanie's arm and said, "Okay, _now_ we run."

The two of them hurried towards the barricades. Melanie was doing the best she can but stumbled a couple of times. Cataclysm kept her up with a firm grip, knowing if they fell that might be it for both of them. When they got to the barricades Cataclysm practically threw the girl over the stack of sandbags and then leapt over herself. The cops, who had been holding fire as they approached, opened up as soon as they were clear. Cataclysm got to her knees and added to the barrage.

After they defeated the wave of Qularr, the Silver Avenger turned to Cataclysm and said, "There's nothing better than being hip-deep in aliens to start your day!"

Cataclysm glanced at her nameplate, which said, "M. Sanchez". She said, "Yeah, I can think of about a million things I'd rather be doing. We're headed to the mayor's temporary command post. Where is it?"

Sanchez turned and pointed down the street. "See that building past the hospital? He's in the basement there."

Cataclysm turned to Melanie. "You should probably go to the hospital. I'll drop you off on the way."

"Um, my friend will probably be with the mayor. Can I come with you?"

Cataclysm suppressed a groan and said, "Sure."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FOR THOSE UNFAMILIAR WITH THE FANDOM  
> 
> 
>   * MARS is a police organization like SWAT, but geared for supervillains.
>   * The Silver Avengers are low-powered PRIMUS super soldiers.
> 



	6. Medic!

The trip to the command center was certainly easier than what they'd faced so far. The humans had a stronger presence here and mobile AA guns kept the Qularr ships mostly at bay. PRIMUS soldiers stood guard at the entrance and waved them in as they approached.

Inside it was a madhouse. Refugees, cops, soldiers, and random city functionaries scurried around the ground floor. Cataclysm was looking around for someone to talk to when a man approached. "Come, come. This way. We have a relief center right down this hall with food and drink and medical care. It's all okay now."

Cataclysm violently shook off his hand as he tried to guide her towards one of the corridors. "She is trying to find a friend," she said with a nod to Melanie.

"If anyone is here, they'll be in the relief center."

"What about animals? Is someone collecting strays?"

"Yes, there is a woman from the shelter who is taking rescued animals. Now if you'll just come this way..."

Cataclysm again shook off his hand. She said to Melanie, "Go with him he'll get you to your friend." She took the briefcase and laptop from the dazed girl.

Melanie's eyes were glassy. "Um, ok," she said and let herself be led away, clutching the cat carrier.

Cataclysm looked around impatiently and approached the nearest cop. "I need to see the mayor. Where is he?"

He turned to her and frowned when he saw her. "The mayor is very busy right now. Go to the relief center. They'll take care of..." His frown deepened. He turned his head and bellowed, "Hey, MacAvoy. Is this the one?"

Cataclysm turned and saw a familiar face pushing his way through the crowd. "You made it," he said incredulously. "And you have the emergency plans!" He reached out for them.

She snatched them away. "I'll give these to the mayor himself, not some flunky who's just going to lose them."

MacAvoy snapped, "You give me those right now or..." He stopped himself and sighed. "All right. Biselle may want to see you anyhow. Come on."

MacAvoy led her downstairs into a basement storage area that had been converted to a command center. The place was crawling with cops and they all watched Cataclysm suspiciously as she followed MacAvoy through the crowd. The ended up at the desk of a harried, middle-aged black man who was talking to the police chief. "With the radios down, it's hard to be sure," he was saying. "We might need to pull the MARS teams out of there and redirect them to the attacks from the south."

"Mr. Mayor," MacAvoy said, " I need to speak with you urgently."

Biselle turned to them and, though his eyes flicked briefly to Cataclysm, he didn't do more than raise his eyebrows at her presence. Cataclysm dropped the two cases on his desk. "You need to take better care of your shit."

His eyes widened as he looked at them. "The emergency plans. Where did you...? Chief, we may have a chance after all." The mayor fished in his pocket for a key to open the briefcase while the chief pulled out the laptop and started hooking it up.

Cataclysm waited impatiently while they clustered around the computer. She was just about to leave when the mayor tore himself away. "Thank you so much. You have no idea how much this is going to help our efforts against the Qularr." He held out his hand, but Cataclysm just sneered at it. Smoothly he dropped his hand and said, "Well, I'm glad to the people of Millennium City can put aside their differences and work together in this time of crisis. No matter where we live or what our-"

Cataclysm's sharp response was bitten off as a woman's voice from behind her said, "Dad, dad. They found Melanie." A young black woman rushed up to the mayor. "She's pretty shaken up by this whole thing but I think she'll be okay." She caught sight of Cataclysm. "Wait, was it you?" She stepped forward like she was going to give Cataclysm a hug and then thought better of it. "I'm sorry but I don't know your name. Melanie said it was, and I quote, 'Catwoman or something like that'."

"Cataclysm," the Maniac growled.

"Yeah, that makes a little more sense. My god, I was so worried about her and I figured there was no chance we'd ever find her. She said you were incredible, though!" She turned back to the mayor. "Dad, she's a meta. Melanie said she single-handedly beat dozens of Qularr. Look I gotta get back to Melanie. I just wanted to let you know she was okay." She scurried off.

Biselle turned to Cataclysm. "I have to add my personal thanks to my official gratitude. Melanie is a friend of the family and we were very worried about her. But having another metahuman will really help our efforts. I need you to reinforce the barricades to the south. We are having trouble holding Michigan Avenue against-"

"I don't work for you," she snapped.

Biselle was taken aback but again recovered quickly. "Of course, of course. My apologies. You've already done more than I could expect in defense of the city. Is there anything we can do? You look like you could use a doctor."

"I just need to know if there is a clear shot between here and the Champions building."

"Yes, yes. If you could help out the defense there that would also be wonderful. Chief? Show her the best way to Champions Headquarters." He gave her his best politician's smile and turned back to his computer.

Surhoff's attitude wasn't as friendly as the mayor's but he took her over to a map on the wall. "You don't want to head down Woodward. That's where the paramedics are pinned down. You'd be better off heading down Griswold-"

"Paramedics?" she asked sharply. "What about them?"

"The Qularr troops have been targeting ambulances. There is a group trapped here," he tapped the map. "We sent PRIMUS in but they got overwhelmed and are now pinned down with the paramedics. As I was saying, if you head..."

Targeting ambulances? Cataclysm's usual scowl deepened. There was a rule on Westside: paramedics were off limits. Gang fighting stopped when an ambulance came through the area. After all, you might be their next passenger. Just a couple months ago a Cobra Lords newbie had hit a paramedic with a stray gunshot. The Cobra Lords had...well, the stories about what they did to the gang member were probably exaggerated.

Cataclysm had heard what she needed to. She exited the room, leaving Surhoff talking to empty air.

* * *

Cataclysm eyed the hospital as she exited the building. Everything hurt, especially her ribs. That one worried her the most but she wasn't coughing up blood yet so she was probably fine. As much as she wanted to rest, she also wanted so burn a few more bugs.

She jogged down the street towards Woodward Avenue. The area was clear of Qularr but she had to keep an eye out for the ships that occasionally made strafing runs. When she turned onto the wide avenue she saw a PRIMUS barricade a block ahead. She crouched a bit lower as she ran but there didn't seem to be any bugs around. As she neared the PRIMUS squad she could see Qularr further down the road, though they weren't interested in the PRIMUS troops.

She reached the sandbags and crouched down next to the soldiers. She didn't have much problem with PRIMUS since they focused on the big threats like supervillains--and alien invasions--and left the gangs alone. "What the situation?" she asked.

The squad leader turned to her, hesitated slightly and then said, "Holding position. The bugs aren't hitting us very hard here."

"What about that?" she pointed to the activity down the road.

"Some ambulances are trapped in there. A PRIMUS squad went to help but they got pinned down too."

"So? Why are you sitting here?"

"I have my orders."

"I hope that's consolation when you get shot by the bugs and bleed to death because you didn't have the balls to save the medics. Get off your ass and get out there!"

He clenched his jaw. "Okay, maybe I agree with you, but I can't disobey my orders."

"Oh? Your radio is working then?"

"Well, no. They've been using runners to pass messages."

"So I could claim to be a runner with new orders. And you'd have no idea if I was lying."

He looked at the Qularr and then back at her. "I suppose so." He added dryly, "You certainly look trustworthy enough. If you're out here alone and unarmed you must be a meta." She nodded. "Will you support us if we go in?'

"No, but _you_ can support _me_. You take your squad down the left and I'll go right. I go in hot and fast and you provide covering fire."

Hotly he said, "Hey, gang-banger, I might be willing to look the other way about some things but I'm in command of this squad!"

"Then I'm sure you realize that if you go down the left you'll have a clear shot at the Qularr without risking hitting the trapped civilians while if you shoot from the right they will be right in the line of fire. And you realize that the browns and blacks I wear will blend into the color of rubble littering the right side of the street while your uniforms would blend better with the cover on the left. Plus I see at least eight good firing positions on the left and only one or two on the right, and they are damn close to the bugs."

The squad leader looked out over the street and then back at her. "Okay, that's actually a pretty good tactical evaluation." He looked out over the street again. "All right, we'll do it your way."

"Good. Don't start firing until I do. I'll draw them out into the middle of the street so you get a better shot. And I'm going to get in close so don't shoot me."

The Qularr were focused on the barricaded paramedics so Cataclysm was able to advance quickly along the street. One time she dropped to the ground as a bug turned her way, but it just scanned the area and then turned back. Cataclysm reached the position she had been eyeing without a problem.

She could see six ambulances that had been parked to create a rough barricade against the wall of a building. About fifteen Qularr were attacking the vehicle barricade with their bare hands, crazed like the others. She could see a handful of PRIMUS soldiers, presumably out of ammo, beating at them with the butts of their rifles. The heavy ambulances gave them enough cover to hold off the bugs but they wouldn't be able to last long.

One of the Qularr was truly massive, easily nine feet tall, and built like a boulder. She figured that must be the leader so she targeted him. She wanted to avoid hitting the paramedics so she took careful aim at the bug's head. Right as she fired it shifted its stance, and her shot glanced off its shoulder.

It hissed and turned. The thing spotted Cataclysm immediately but rather than charging it chattered and the other bugs surged towards her. She started peppering them with fire as they crossed the avenue and dropped three. She was getting a little nervous, but the PRIMUS troops finally opened up. Their gunfire ripped through the now exposed bugs. The smaller bugs all fell, but the massive one thundered across the ground towards her.

Cataclysm leapt to her feet as it closed, hitting it with blast after blast of fire, but it wouldn't go down. The PRIMUS troops stopped firing, afraid of hitting her she assumed, and suddenly it was upon her. It grabbed her torso with its claws and squeezed. Cataclysm grunted as she felt her bones creak under its grip. It lifted her towards its massive mandibles. Cataclysm reached out, grabbed behind each mandible and drove fire into its head from both sides. Even after the flame burst through its shell, it continued to lift her towards its mouth. Then it toppled back, Cataclysm still in its claws, and fell heavily to the street.

It wasn't moving but it didn't loosen its grip either. Cataclysm struggled to get free, choking on the smell of fried bug brains, and it finally took three of the PRIMUS soldiers to pry her out of its claws. She could see the ambulances were starting up and the soldiers were preparing to escort them. One paramedic came up and said, "Let me take a look at you."

"I'm fine," Cataclysm said, waving the woman off.

The paramedic grabbed her arm. When Cataclysm tried to pull away, she said, "Hold still, you big baby." She jabbed Cataclysm's arm with a vial. Cataclysm felt a sharp pain and then something spreading through her bicep. "Healing patch," the paramedic said. "Stimulants, pain killers, and a few other things to keep you going. Not a substitute for a real doctor." She slapped a couple more into Cataclysm's hand. "You didn't get those from me," she said with a wink and then hurried back to one of the ambulances.

The convoy looked to be in safe hands so Cataclysm headed towards the Champions building.


	7. The Battle of Champions

Cataclysm sprinted across the street to crouch down behind one of the trees on Woodward Avenue's median and survey the situation. The Champions building was under siege. An enormous army of Qularr surrounded it and dropships continued to bring in more. Cataclysm could see barricades set up on every ramp and stairway. Metahumans and PRIMUS troops defended the place as best they could, but the bugs just kept coming. An enormous cannon was deployed on the main plaza and pacing in front of it she saw a huge man in armor, using his sword to defend the cannon from the few Qularr who broke through. She recognized him as the hero, Ironclad.

She found what looked like a thin spot in the Qularr lines and started firing. Many of the enemy were the crazed ones that fought hand-to-hand, but a lot of them still retained enough sanity to use their energy rifles. All of them basically ignored her, intent on getting either to the cannon or to the building itself, she wasn't sure which.

She broke a hole in their lines and saw someone beckoning her from the barricades. There were a line of soldiers there and a figure in dark red clothing standing in front of the fortification wielding twin swords and cutting up any bug that came close. Cataclysm ran across the street, continuing to blast Qularr as best she could. She didn't even have to aim. Anywhere she blasted fire, there was a bug there. Cataclysm charged for the line of crates and sandbags and dove down behind them.

"Welcome to the Alamo," said a metallic voice. "I hope we do better than them fellers did."

Cataclysm looked up to see a robot designed to look like a cowboy. He drew twin six-guns and started firing at a new wave of Qularr. Next to him a woman in an orange and white harlequin outfit fired strange, cobbled-together energy rifle over the crates. "Actually Rorke's Drift would be a better analogy," she said. "You know if the Zulus had energy weapons and space ships." She looked down and Cataclysm and winked. "And the defenders won that one."

There were also several PRIMUS soldiers behind the barricade. Cataclysm sat up to add her fire bolts to the barrage. At the next lull, the cowboy robot tipped his hat and said, "Wild Bill Tick-Tock, ma'am. Pleased to meetcha. Whiskey's on me when this is over."

"Cataclysm," she offered.

"I'm Shenanigans," said the harlequin. "That one doesn't talk," she nodded to the woman using the swords, who had retreated behind the barricade between attack waves, "but I've been calling her Cuisinart." The silent women stayed silent, merely drawing her swords as more Qularr came.

After battling the next wave of Qularr, Cataclysm looked behind her, trying to take in as much of the defenses as she could. "Not many of us here," she said. Everyone looked haggard. Even the robot seemed to be moving slowly.

"Used to be more," Wild Bill said. He shrugged. "Seem to be an endless number of them varmints though and when one of us falls, no one's here to replace us. You're the first new one I've seen in quite a spell."

"So what's the plan?" she asked in frustration. "We just keep killing bugs until we die?"

"Hey, at least it's a plan," Shenanigans offered. "I said we should fall back and defend the city from a beach in the Bahamas, but nooo."

Wild Bill said, "That big cannon up there was supposed to be the plan. Suppose to fire some kind of slug that will take out the Qularr mother ship where their queen is. But them varmints damaged it and now we are waiting for supplies. Stage is late though. Robbers I expect."

"Why doesn't some cape just fly it in?"

Shenanigans said, "Qularr AA defenses are too good. Anything larger than a speck of dust gets zapped out of the sky. They've made a real dent in the pigeon population at least."

Cataclysm looked up. It seemed odd to her but she hadn't really been paying attention to the mother ship hovering over them. It was so huge her brain couldn't process that it was an object. It just seemed like the sky. "And if that cannon doesn't get repaired?" she asked.

Wild Bill shrugged. "At least I die with my boots on."

"Well, since they are actually welded to your legs that's not saying much," observed Shenanigans as she raised her strange rifle to her shoulder again. "Giant roach motel," she said as she started shooting. "That's my idea."

"Sounds like a winner," said Cataclysm as she blasted the bugs. "Afraid I left my can of Raid in my other pants."

"Isn't that always the way," Shenanigans sighed. "Anybody know how to say 'I surrender' in Qularr?"

The battle seemed hopeless. The ships kept dropping troops. The defenders would wipe them out and then more would come. It was only a matter of time until attrition and fatigue doomed the humans.

"Look!" someone shouted. "It's a truck."

Cataclysm saw an army truck bouncing its way down rubble-covered Woodward Avenue. "That's got to be the cannon parts," said one of the soldiers. "God, they'll never make it."

"Suppressing fire!" shouted the PRIMUS commander. "Make a hole!"

Every gun and superpower was directed at the Qularr between the Champions building and the truck. The humans fought with renewed energy as hope approached, but the truck hit one obstacle too many and skewed to the side. It smashed into a light pole and stopped a half-block from the defensive lines.

Cataclysm could actually feel the defenders lose hope in that moment, like a cloud had covered the sun. She gauged the distance. There was no way. You'd have to be crazy to even try.

"Let's go," she said, standing.

The others looked confused. "Go where?" said Shenanigans.

"To get those supplies."

The others swiveled their heads as one to look at the wrecked truck and then back at her. They didn't even need to speak for Cataclysm to know what they were thinking.

"Look," she said, "if I wanted to die cowering under cover, I'd have stayed in Westside and at least died with my friends. In that truck are the parts we need to take down that ship." She hoped. It might also have been fleeing civilians, a crate of PRIMUS dress berets, or anything else. "These fucking cockroaches are _not_ going to take over my city. Not as long as I'm standing. I'm going."

The others were silent and then the woman with the swords drew her blades and stood next to Cataclysm. Wild Bill said, "I reckon I'll join this posse. Wish I had my horse, though. And about a hundred deputies."

Shenanigans said, "Sure, sounds like a laugh."

The PRIMUS squad leader nodded. "Okay, we're with you."

The hole they had made was already closing. They were going to have to move fast and hard. The swordswoman led the way, carving out a path out of the surging insect bodies that moved to block them. Wild Bill focused on keeping their right side clear while Cataclysm took the left. Shenanigans followed, lending her support to either side. The PRIMUS soldiers protected their flanks.

This was not a time for slow advance under cover. This was a straight balls-to-the-wall charge that wouldn't have had a chance against an organized enemy, but the Qularr just didn't seem to see them. The bugs had lost their minds and they charged in just as mindlessly as the humans who were charging out. Behind them Cataclysm heard commanders shouting for their troops to provide supporting fire.

They reached the truck without taking a single injury and Cataclysm started to think this mad plan might just work. The truck bed contained a single crate, strapped down securely. A couple of slashes from the silent woman's swords and it was free. The PRIMUS soldiers struggled to get it off but she waved them off. She pushed the crate to the truck's tailgate and then jumped down. She stood with her back to the truck and reached behind her to pull the crate onto her shoulders. From the way the truck rose when the crate was removed, Cataclysm figured the crate must have literally weighed a ton. The woman grunted a little but otherwise seemed fine carrying the load herself.

The Qularr finally realized something was going on. The nearest bugs turned their rage on the little group. Cataclysm burned down as many as she could but they were closing in fast. The silent woman couldn't move faster than a rapid walk under the weight of the supplies, and the loss of her combat skills hurt the group's ability to defend itself. 

The painkillers from the healing patch seemed to wear off suddenly and Cataclysm's body started aching. Fatigue was catching up with her and she found herself stumbling on the uneven ground. One time she bumped up against the crate and it swayed dangerously. The woman growled but righted the load and continued. "Sorry," Cataclysm mumbled as she returned to the fight.

She heard yelling and turned. A group of soldiers and heroes led by Ironclad were charging down the ramp. They smashed into the Qularr in a wedge formation. Ironclad drove through the crowd of bugs to the beleaguered group, laying about with his giant sword. "A brave plan, my friends," he boomed, towering over the rest of them. "I'll take this burden from you." He lifted the crate with one hand and shifted it onto one shoulder. The woman straightened up, stretched her back muscles and then drew her swords.

The reinforcements had disrupted the Qularr enough that the humans were able to get back to the Champions building. Cataclysm felt exhilarated until she turned and saw that many of the others were carrying bodies. She didn't know if they were wounded or dead, but it sobered her to realize they had lost so many. She had to know if they had risked everything for a purpose. While the others resumed their position at the barricades, she followed Ironclad to the cannon.

He had opened the crate and PRIMUS troops were looking over the contents. One was saying, "The triggering components aren't here. We can fix the rest but we have no way to fire it."

"We can fire the weapon from the control room," Ironclad said in his rich baritone. He looked around and spotted Cataclysm. "My friend, I need you to carry a message to Defender inside the headquarters. Tell him the cannon is ready, or will be by the time you reach him, and he must fire it as soon as possible." He pointed. "Go around the building this way to reach the main entrance, which is being held by Witchcraft. Tell her I sent you and she will let you into the building."

Cataclysm would rather have stayed to fight than act as gofer, but she knew they had to work together. "On my way," she said. She glanced at the cannon and hesitated. In front of it was the shell it was going to fire, a massive cone-tipped object over eight feet high. "Okay I just have to ask," she said to Ironclad. "Why does that bullet have a door?"

Ironclad grinned. "No single round could disable a ship like that. I shall ride in the cartridge as it penetrates the ship's shield and hull. When it stops, I shall emerge and smash the ship's systems from the inside. Then as the ship falls to earth, I shall leap free."

Cataclysm just stared at him for a few seconds. "If you ever get sick of this Champions thing, come over to Westside and join the Maniacs. You're crazy enough to pass the entrance exam."

She thought he might be offended, but instead he said, "You honor me, my friend. Good luck!"

Cataclysm ran as quickly as she could, knowing that even with this new hope the defenses could collapse at any minute and the Qularr could swarm the gun. The walkway curved around the building to the main entrance on the west side. She came around to see a line of sandbags set up at the top of a wide stairway. Qularr swarmed up the stairs towards the defenders at the top.

Cataclysm stepped out and attacked the Qularr from behind. She stayed to the side, out of the line fire from the soldiers at the top. She slammed fire into the bugs as she ascended the steps. As she neared the top, she saw a red-headed woman in a green dress standing between two lines of sandbags. She wasn't crouching behind cover because a shimmering shield deflected any Qularr fire that reached her. Cataclysm recognized her as Witchcraft.

The last of the Qularr fell and Cataclysm jogged up the steps. Witchcraft smiled a greeting at her. "Thank you for the help," she said a little out of breath. "I didn't recognize the spell. Was that Blazing Arrow or Ezner's Flame Jet?"

Cataclysm wasn't sure what to say to that. She shrugged. "I point at stuff and it blows up."

Witchcraft raised her eyebrows. "You mean you haven't had any formal magical training?"

"No." Cataclysm looked down at her hands. "Is that what I'm doing? Magic?"

"Most definitely. I'm astonished to see that level of ability in someone with no training. You must be an intuitive fire mage. But try this." She stepped over and grabbed Cataclysm's hand. "Curve your fingers in like this. And when you cast, you know how you feel the heat move up your arm?" Cataclysm nodded. "When it gets about to your wrist, rotate your hand like this."

"Here they come again," said one of the PRIMUS soldiers.

"Try it," Witchcraft said.

Cataclysm looked down the steps at the approaching wave of Qularr. She curved in her fingers and called up the fire, rotating her hand when the heat reached her wrist. The first blast of fire came out with such force her arm jerked back. It was like the difference between a .22 pistol and a shotgun. The shot went wild. Bracing against the recoil she tried again. The Qularr she hit dropped in one blow. "Yeah," she said with a grin. "That's a lot better."

Witchcraft finished chanting a spell and lightning danced among the Qularr, felling many of them. "Talent is valuable but you need training to reach your true potential. A man might be seven feet tall, but to become a basketball star he still must learn the game. You should find a teacher when this is over."

Cataclysm, who had been exhausted a minute ago, was filled with energy as she blasted bug after bug with her new power. She was almost cackling. "Yeah, I think I'll do that." Suddenly she remembered why she was there. "I need to get in to talk to Defender." Blast, blast. "The cannon," blast, "is done but Defender has to fire it from inside." Blast, blast, blast.

"Go ahead," Witchcraft said as the last of the wave fell. She made a complex gesture over her shoulder and the door slid open. "Some of the Qularr have gotten inside, though not many. I imagine Defender has already defeated them." She shook her head. "They are mad to get inside the building. I don't understand it."

Cataclysm nodded. "It's the same out there, but it's been a lot worse the closer I've gotten to the Champions building. I don't think it's just because this is the command center either."

"Nor do I. Well, hurry along. Maybe we are seeing the end of this battle."

Cataclysm nodded and trotted into the building. The door slid quietly shut behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wild Bill Tick-Tock, Shenanigans and "Cuisnart" (who is actually named Femme Fatale) were some of my alts.
> 
> FOR THOSE UNFAMILIAR WITH THE FANDOM
> 
>   * The Champions are the city's superhero team. Members are Defender (power armor), Witchcraft (magic), Ironclad (alien gladiator), Sapphire (magic) and Kinetik (super speed).
> 



	8. Defending Defender

As the door slid shut, Cataclysm realized something was wrong. She could hear weapons fire up ahead, a lot of it, and a loud explosion rocked the building. The reception area was littered with Qularr bodies and destroyed humanoid robots. She assumed the latter were some kind of automated defense set up by the Champions. She debated for a moment but figured she should tell Witchcraft before moving on. She turned around and reached for the door control. "Oh, for fuck's sake," she sighed. The panel had been destroyed, though she couldn't tell if it was deliberate or not. She went over to the receptionist's desk, hoping to find another door control there, but there was nothing. She drummed her fingers on the desk surface but she didn't really have much of a choice. She'd seen the door and she wasn't powerful enough to blast it open so there was only one direction to go.

Cataclysm suddenly remembered the healing patches the paramedic had given her. She fished one out and looked it over. It looked pretty easy to use. She stripped the cap off one end and jammed the short needle into a patch of bare skin. In a minute or so her pain started to fade and she felt more energetic. She dropped the empty capsule and moved into the corridor.

It didn't take long for her to come across the first battle. Two Qularr exchanged fire with two defense robots. Cataclysm blasted the bugs and started to walk forward, but then dove into a doorway for cover as the robots turned their weapons on her. "Hey, I'm on your side!" she yelled but the machines were unmoved. They fired bursts of energy and she could hear them advancing down the hall. She rolled out low and blasted them both as hard as she could. She was unsure how vulnerable their metal bodies would be to her fire blasts, but they went down easily enough.

She listened and, though she still heard the sound of fighting, she didn't hear any more combatants approaching. She regained her feet and went to examine the robots for weak spots. Although made of metal they weren't that well armored and she saw several places her fire bolts could cripple or destroy them. She paused as she studied them. There was something familiar about them. She shrugged it off, figuring she'd seen them on news reports about the Champions building.

Cataclysm continued deeper into the building. She could hear a larger battle against the background of small weapons fire and suspected that was where Defender was. It seemed surprising he was having so much trouble against the bugs. Maybe he wasn't the badass everyone thought he was.

She came across more skirmishes and avoided the ones she could. However she'd learned her lesson once and no longer treated the defense robots as possible allies. She attacked either them or the bugs if she found either group alone.

Cataclysm neared the bigger battle. She could hear explosions, the fire of guns much larger than pistols or submachine guns, and the high-pitched whine of energy beams. The ground shook with the steps of something massive. Defender was big in his powered armor but these thundering footfalls seemed too heavy for that. Maybe it was some huge defense robot.

She paused as she neared the end of the corridor. It opened up into a large chamber and this was where the sounds of battle were coming from. She approached cautiously and peered around the edge of the doorway. She had been right--it was a huge defense robot. It was humanoid and at least twelve feet tall. It had some kind of pods mounted to its shoulders and massive guns on each arm. As she watched it pointed its right arm and fired an automatic cannon at its foe.

She was shocked to see its target was Defender, his white and blue powered armor torn and sparking in places. He threw up an arm and an energy shield blocked the high-caliber rounds but they hit with such force he was pushed back along the tile floor. He fired a barrage of bolts from a wrist weapon and then threw his shoulders back. A powerful beam of energy shot out of his chest and struck the robot but that didn't slow it down, but the robot showed a great deal of damage.

"You cannot defeat me," the robot said. "The Black Talon armor is invincible!"

Cataclysm frowned. That hadn't been a metallic voice like Wild Bill's. She looked closer and realized she could see a human head through a clear bubble mounted at the top of the machine. It wasn't a robot. It was a huge suit of powered armor. Why was a human attacking Defender? Was he working with the Qularr?

Cataclysm was so focused on the battle she almost didn't hear the clanking footsteps behind her. She whirled to see a patrol of robots. She lay down a barrage of fire bolts, backing into the room as she did so.

"Reinforcements?" Black Talon taunted. "It will take more than two feeble heroes to defeat me. All the Champions together could not overcome the power of my armor!"

Defender turned to see who had entered. When he saw Cataclysm he said, "Hero, we don't have much time!" He didn't see the pods on Black Talon's shoulders open to reveal an array of tubes. The tubes released a horde of small missiles that flew in a cloud towards Defender.

"Look out!" Cataclysm yelled reflexively.

Defender turned but was too late. The missiles exploded and he was lost in a cloud of fire and smoke. When it cleared, Defender lay unmoving on the ground. Black Talon laughed maniacally as he turned to Cataclysm. "This Black Talon armor was built for one reason and one reason only: to kill heroes."

Cataclysm didn't know what was happening, but she knew she was going to die if she didn't act quickly. "Then I guess it's good that I'm not a hero," she growled and she slammed powerful blasts of fire into Black Talon. She tried to aim for already damaged areas, hoping she could cause some kind of critical system failure. She could see she was starting small fires inside the suit and that might work to her advantage.

Black Talon brought up his automatic cannon and Cataclysm ran to the side, still pouring fire into him as fast as she could. The bullets tore chunks out of the wall behind her but he was moving a huge weight and couldn't track her fast enough to catch up. He lowered the cannon and raised his other arm. She skidded to a halt, preparing to run the other direction, but she wasn't fast enough. The gun fired with a *foom* and a coil of wire shot out and wrapped around her chest, trapping her arms. She'd been hit by tanglecoil shooters before--cops used them sometimes--but she quickly realized this coil was different. It was barbed and grew tighter as she struggled, digging into her skin until it drew blood. Black Talon howled his villain laugh again and braced himself as the missile pods opened again.

Cataclysm bared her teeth and yelled in frustration as she fought to twist a hand around. She fired a tight stream of flame that cut the thin wire at the cost of a long burn across her chest. As soon as she was free, Cataclysm poured twin streams of fire into the open missile pods. The small missiles started to launch but then they detonated, all of the warheads at the same time. Black Talon cried out and fell due to the force of the multiple explosions. He struggled clumsily to get up while Cataclysm's mind raced, trying to think of a way should could beat him.

Defender said, "Hero, over here! We don't have much time!"

Cataclysm turned in surprise. Defender was still lying immobile on the floor but she could see his mouth moving under his half-helmet as he said, "We have a chance, but I need your help!" Cataclysm knelt next to him. "The suit servos are frozen!" he said. "I can't move! I can overload my chest beam and that might be enough to defeat our enemy, but I need you to aim the beam!"

Cataclysm found herself wondering if he always talked in exclamation points, but shook that thought away as she moved behind him and struggled to get him off the floor. "Roll me on my side!" he said. She lifted with all her strength but the armor weighed a ton. 

Black Talon had regained his feet though seemed to be having trouble finding a stable position. "Persist with your interference, hero, and my master's vengeance will be without limit!"

Finally with a burst of adrenaline Cataclysm managed to get Defender up on his side. She sighted the beam as best she could. "Brace yourself!" Defender said. "This will have quite a kick!"

A blinding flash shot out towards Black Talon and the recoil send Defender and Cataclysm sliding along the hard floor until they smashed into the wall. The shot tore off the lower section of one of the suit's legs. Cataclysm wondered if any of the pilot's real leg had been in there. His scream as the suit toppled again could have been pain or frustration. "No, I cannot be defeated!" he insisted.

Cataclysm was pinned between the wall and the unmoving Defender. Her strength had been spent lifting him once and she wasn't sure she could do it again. Then she realized Black Talon was struggling to point his automatic cannon at them and suddenly another surge of strength flowed into her. She got some leverage against the wall and pushed Defender, rolling him onto his stomach and freeing herself. She leapt across the room to stand on top of the fallen Black Talon armor. The pilot glared at her through the cockpit bubble as he tried to move the suit. Cataclysm bathed the suit window with fire and said, "You going to give up, or shall we find out just how fireproof this canopy is?"

He said, "All right, all right. I give up." She stopped the fire, backed off the armor and the canopy popped open. She kept her hands up and lit as he struggled out of the armor but he was clearly carrying no weapons.

"Handcuffs," came a muffled voice.

Cataclysm circled so she could see Defender without looking away from the Black Talon pilot. He was still face down on the floor. "On my belt," he said through lips smashed against the floor. It was all she could do to keep herself from laughing.

After cuffing the the pilot, she said to Defender, "So what am I supposed to do with you?"

"The suit is repairing itself," he said, his voice still muffled by the floor. "I should be able to move in a few minutes." At least he had stopped talking in exclamation points.

Another patrol of robots came into the room and Cataclysm blasted them. "Can't you tell your defense robots to stop shooting at me?" She had intended the comment for Defender but the pilot responded.

"Ha! Dr. Destroyer's forces will never stop fighting heroes. You may have defeated me through luck today, but soon an army of robots will subjugate all nations as Dr. Destroyer spreads his influence across the planet."

Cataclysm suddenly realized why the robots had looked familiar. Every cheesy movie about Dr. Destroyer and the Battle of Detroit had to have hordes of evil destroid robots for the hero to destroy. "You mean those robots aren't yours, Defender?"

"No, hero, they are the cruel minions of the evil Dr. Destroyer." Cataclysm frowned at the word 'hero' but said nothing. "Black Talon and the destroids are behind the Qularr attack on Millennium City. The Qularr are just pawns. Black Talon was here to activate beacons we had recovered during the last Qularr invasion. However he has modified them in some way. They broadcast a high-frequency signal which drives the Qularr crazy. That's what caused them to attack! We need to shut down all of those beacons!"

Cataclysm heard the exclamation points in his again and turned to see Destroyer was slowly pushing himself up from the floor. "That is better!" he said. "Most of my weapon systems are still damaged and will need longer to repair! You've shown great bravery today, my friend, but I still need your assistance! If you can provide the firepower I still have enough defensive ability to protect you from the destroids as we make our way to the beacons!"

Cataclysm bristled at his familiar tone but said only, "Ironclad says the cannon is ready and needs you to fire it from here."

"Excellent! The control center is past the storage room where the beacons are so we can fire the cannon once we have deactivated them!"

"What about him?" she nodded at the pilot.

"If we leave him, the destroids will free him so we must take him with us! Do not flee, prisoner, because justice will find you wherever you run! This way!" He strode confidently towards one of the corridors.

Cataclysm turned to the pilot. "Let me be more direct than the idiot cape," she said to him. She held up a hand and called up the flame. "Run and I'll be sure you regret it for the rest of your life, which will be short and painful. Got it?"

He glared at her defiantly and said nothing. She shoved him after Defender.

Defender could move with surprising stealth considering he was wearing a metal suit. He led the way with the prisoner behind and Cataclysm bringing up the rear. Defender stopped at a corner and beckoned Cataclysm closer. Softly he said, "My sensors show a force of four destroids around this corner, hero. I will go out first and attract their fire. Once they are focused on me, you step out and destroy them quickly." Cataclysm nodded, but her irritation with Defender was growing.

Defender stepped out to fire wrist-mounted beams down the hall and then blocked a barrage of return fire with an energy shield on his left arm. He moved to the far side of the corridor and Cataclysm knew it was time for her to move. She glared at the pilot and growled, "Remember what I said."

She leaned out and blasted the four robots there. Even as she destroyed them they kept their aim on Defender. Cataclysm reasoned they might actually be pre-programmed to target the Champions over others. That was fine with her. After the robots were down she looked over her shoulder. The pilot was still there, glaring at her defiantly. She roughly shoved him around the corner.

Defender said, "Great job, friend! At this rate we'll-"

Cataclysm had hit her limit. She threw her weight into Defender's chest, knocking him against the wall. "Listen, tin man," she grated, her face close to his. "I'm not your friend. I'm not a hero. You call me that again and I'll cook you like a baked potato wrapped in foil. Got me?"

Defender was taken aback by her reaction. "Of course, fr-...er, what would you prefer I called you?"

"I'd prefer you didn't, but if you _must_ call me something my name is Cataclysm."

"Very well, Cataclysm! Shall we continue?"

She stepped back and waved him down the corridor. She looked at the pilot and, when she saw his face, she said, "You better wipe that smirk off or I'll burn it off." He carefully rearranged his expression.

They met more destroids as they made their way through the building. The Qularr hadn't penetrated this deeply. The robots weren't really a threat, especially once Defender's weapons started to come back online. There was a larger force guarding the store room, but compared to everything she'd faced that that day, it was an easy fight.

Defender entered to store room and deactivated the beacons quickly. "Why do you keep these?" Cataclysm asked.

"Our studies of Qularr technology have led to a number of valuable innovations in our own technology, plus permitted us to build defenses against their attacks! That is one reason we have managed to hold them off during this invasion!"

"Yeah well maybe you should take them apart before someone does this again."

"You may be right, h-, um, Cataclysm!"

Next they went downstairs to the underground command complex. On one wall was a huge screen filled with a view of the cannon. Cataclysm was surprised the camera hadn't been destroyed. She could see the technician just closing the massive breach on the cartridge that carried Ironclad. In front of the view screen was a wide bank of controls and several chairs. Defender sat in one and brought up a display on a smaller screen. He tapped a few controls on the screen and some buttons on the panel. "Everything is in readiness! Systems show the cannon is operational, loaded and aimed at the mother ship's engine!" He paused and then stood up. "Why don't you do the honors, Cataclysm?" He pointed to a large button on the screen. "Tap this button to launch the Ironclad Defense!"

Cataclysm was tempted to tell him what he could do with the cannon, but she had to admit it seemed pretty cool. She crossed to the console and reached out to tap the screen. It was a bit unsatisfying at first--there really should be a good solid 'click' to a button like that--but then the ground shook as the enormous cannon fired. The camera tracked the hypervelocity shell as it penetrated the mother ship's shield and hull.

Cataclysm waited but nothing happened. "Was that it?" she asked in confusion.

"Not at all! It will take Ironclad a while to do enough damage to disable the ship! Let us go outside where we can get a better view of our victory!"

They encountered no destroids as they returned to the main floor, their prisoner still sulkily in tow. With Black Talon defeated and the beacons deactivated, Cataclysm figured they probably had retreated to wherever they had come from. She found herself wondering how they had gotten into the building. They certainly hadn't come in the front door or Witchcraft would have mentioned it.

The outside door opened for Defender; Cataclysm assumed he must have some kind of remote control in his suit. They exited the building and Witchcraft greeted them with an enormous smile. "You're safe! The Qularr have started to withdraw." Cataclysm saw she was right. There were only a few bugs out there now and those that remained were boarding ships rather than attacking the barricades. The mood of the PRIMUS soldiers with Witchcraft was certainly improved over what it had been when Cataclysm had gone in.

The Qularr weren't attacking anymore so everyone watched the mother ship, keeping half an eye on the remaining invaders as they evacuated. Finally Cataclysm could see several bright but silent flashes in the rear area of the ship. Slowly the ship began to move but she could see something was wrong. It was listing and the nose was dropping. More flashes appeared in other areas of the ship and smoke began to billow out of the enormous ship. The sound of the explosions finally reached them as dull thuds.

"It's going to hit the UNTIL building," someone said in alarm. The mother ship was losing altitude rapidly as it moved to the south and it did look like it was going to clip the UNTIL tower, but by some miracle it passed over without striking the building and dropped toward the river.

"There's Ironclad!" said Defender, pointing to a dot that was falling away from the doomed ship.

"He can really survive a fall from that height?" Cataclysm asked.

"He can," said Witchcraft. "I'm not sure any impact is strong enough to hurt him."

The mother ship plummeted into the Detroit River with a crash that rippled through the entire city. A cheer went up from the defenders, and even Cataclysm found her usual grumpy mood evaporating.

* * *

With the mother ship destroyed, the other Qularr ships over Millennium City fled into hyperspace tunnels. As global communication systems came back online reports said that all the other invasion fleets were retreating as well. Apparently this had been the central command ship for the entire operation.

Defender threw open the doors to the Champions building, inviting everyone inside for a celebration. Cataclysm let herself be dragged in by the flow of the crowd, mostly to wolf down a little food since she hadn't eaten all day. However she felt out of place and finally slipped out.

She stopped when she heard her name and turned to see Witchcraft approaching. "Please stay. No one had more to do with our victory than you did."

"I'm not really one of this gang."

Witchcraft looked puzzled. "Of course you are. Has anyone make you feel unwelcome?"

Cataclysm was surprised to realize nobody had. Once she got away from the cops, who just saw a Maniac, nobody had given her much of a second look. But that hadn't been her point. "No, I mean I don't really fit in with all this hero shit. I was just saving myself."

Witchcraft paused for a moment and then said, "Well, I wanted to offer my personal thanks. Defender told me what happened. You probably saved his life. He's a good friend. I owe you my thanks and much more."

Cataclysm shifted uncomfortably. "Not telling people I saved Defender's life would repay anything you think you owe me."

Witchcraft chuckled. "I suppose that wouldn't go over well with your friends."

"I'm serious," she snapped.

Witchcraft raised her eyebrows. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound like I was making fun of you. We appreciate the value of anonymity here. I'll talk to Defender and we'll keep your name out of this if that's what you want."

"I'd appreciate it," she forced out. "Sorry. Long day."

"Are you sure you won't stay? It's nearly dark and we had planned to let people stay the night here if they needed to. We can run you back to Westside in the morning."

"I'll be fine."

"Maybe I could-"

"I'll be _fine_!" Cataclysm snarled. Then she grimaced and said, "Look I just really need to get out of here. This," she gestured derisively towards the celebration noise, "isn't who I am. I'm nothing more than a street punk who can do some tricks. I just want to get back to my kind of people."

Witchcraft looked concerned and said, "All right, I understand." She reached out to touch Cataclysm's arm. "I meant that about owing you a favor."

Cataclysm shrugged off her hand and walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From a game point of view, I understand the whole "I'll stand around and do nothing while you fight the supervillain" thing Defender does, but from a story perspective it doesn't work. Not to mention how silly it is that a newbie hero can defeat a supervillain sent to stop the Champions. However, if they are both heavily damaged and she comes in and tips the balance, then it makes more sense. This won't be the last time I scale heroes/villains more appropriately than they are shown in the game.
> 
> FOR THOSE UNFAMILIAR WITH THE FANDOM
> 
>   * Dr. Destroyer is a powerful supervillain who, in the Battle of Detroit, destroyed most of the city as well as killing many superheroes.
> 



	9. You Can't Go Home Again

Cataclysm found a ruined office building to spend the night in. There was a couch to crash on, though as exhausted as she was she could have gotten a good night's sleep on a pile of nails and broken glass. The next morning she got breakfast out of a shattered vending machine. Candy and potato chips weren't very filling but it would be enough to get her back home. She stuffed her pockets with some more candy bars and started the long walk back to Westside.

The closer she got to home the better she felt. Her neighborhood might be a shithole, but it was her shithole. Seeing buildings falling apart from urban decay was a refreshing change from seeing buildings falling apart from alien attacks. She sighed happily when she saw the first group of Maniacs, a man and a woman hanging out on one of the corners at the edge of their territory. "Hey, guys," she called out as she approached. "How are things?"

The pair didn't respond, just turned away. Cataclysm was puzzled, but was in too good a mood to get mad. Who knows what was bothering them?

She headed to the basketball courts to find Pyro. She passed other Maniacs and greeted some, but they all just gave her sour looks. She frowned. What had happened when she was gone? She wondered if one of the other gangs had attacked under the cover of the invasion.

Cataclysm arrived at the basketball courts and spotted Pyro with a group of about eight other Maniacs. They quickly stopped talking as Cataclysm came up. Cataclysm said, "Shit, you would not believe the day I had yesterday." The group shifted uncomfortably and nobody responded. Cataclysm looked around and realized all the Maniacs nearby were either pointedly not looking at her or giving her hostile stares. "Okay, what the fuck is going on?" she demanded.

The others in the group all looked at Pyro. She wouldn't meet Cataclysm's gaze and said only, "I think you should go see Zoe."

"Why?" Cataclysm asked suspiciously. Pyro didn't answer. Cataclysm grabbed her arm. "Hey, Pyro. What's up?"

Pyro shook off her hand. "I think you should go see Zoe," she said again and walked away. The rest of the group went with her, leaving Cataclysm standing alone. Cataclysm's good mood had evaporated and been replaced with a simmering anger. Obviously nobody was going to talk to her until she saw Zoe so she headed for the gang headquarters.

The Maniacs who stood outside the place glared at her but stepped aside to let her in. Inside she got the same cold shoulder she'd gotten on the street. She headed for the common room where Zoe was waiting for her with a half-dozen of her most loyal minions. Someone had probably run ahead to warn her.

"What the fuck is going on?" Cataclysm demanded. "Why is everyone treating me like I'm something that crawled out of the crapper?"

"What are you doing in our territory, little firefly?" Zoe asked in a sickly sweet voice.

"Um, I live here."

"Oh that couldn't possibly be true. This is Maniac territory."

"And I'm a Manaic," Cataclysm said hotly.

"No, you're not!" Zoe snapped, her fake sweetness replaced with real anger. "You left us, remember? You abandoned us to go play with the capes!"

"I left to _save_ us! And I did."

"Oh really, all by yourself? Did you save the city? Did you knock the big scary ship out of the sky like you said you would?"

Cataclysm opened her mouth to answer but knew they wouldn't believe her even if she was willing to own up to her role in things. "I fought a threat to the Maniacs. I defended our turf. I saved your ass."

"No! You left us. You abandoned us when we needed you. Maniacs stand together, and if you ran out then you aren't one of us."

Cataclysm stormed forward, flame involuntarily appearing around her hands, and opened her mouth to retort but suddenly the tension in the room rose palpably as she heard the sound of guns being cocked. Zoe watched her smugly as Cataclysm ran through the possibilities in her mind. She knew she hadn't done anything wrong, but she also knew being right and winning were different things.

Cataclysm let the flames around her hands die. She turned and stalked out of the building.

* * *

"This is Pyro. Leave a message."

Cataclysm hung up without speaking. After four days, a dozen phone calls, countless texts and three phone messages it was time to accept the truth. She hadn't bothered trying any of the other Maniacs. If Pyro wasn't talking to her then nobody was.

She stood in an alleyway and watched the crews a block away clear rubble. They had construction equipment but they also had a lot of supers helping them. It took her a while to find Witchcraft among all the people, but she eventually saw the green dress and red hair in the crowd. She had come to Downtown because she had heard on the news that Witchcraft was helping rebuild areas near the Magic Lantern Bookstore.

Cataclysm watched her for a long time, debating about whether to go ahead or not. She realized Witchcraft was using an array of spells to help the work along and that piqued her curiosity. She decided to get closer to watch the rituals better so joined the crowd at the edge of the site. Cataclysm still wore her Maniac gear, and the people nearby nervously shifted away from her. The crowd in the area was pretty good sized, probably because of Witchcraft. She was quite a celebrity and people often gathered when she did things in the city. That bothered Cataclysm because she had hoped to approach the woman alone.

She had a better view of Witchcraft as she worked. Cataclysm watched her as she cast spells, trying to understand what she was doing and how it might relate to her own ability to sling fire, but it just seemed like gibberish and random gestures. She couldn't learn anything just by watching. She glanced at the cops manning the lines and they obviously weren't going to let her in. This had been a waste of time.

Then again she had nowhere to go. Without daily life in the Maniacs, she was at loose ends. So she continued to watch Witchcraft, hoping to pick up some little kernel of knowledge.

At one point Witchcraft did a sort of double take and then stared in Cataclysm's direction. She stood there looking at the crowd for a long time. Cataclysm thought about waving but figured Witchcraft was probably looking at something else. She saw Witchcraft cast a spell and then Cataclysm heard her voice in her ear. "Cataclysm, is that you? I can hear you if you whisper."

Cataclysm jumped at the voice and looked around to see if anyone else could hear it. They were all watching the construction crews and ignoring her. "Yeah, it's me," she whispered softly.

"I'll tell them to let you in."

"No," she said loudly, getting a few stares from people near her.

"Ah, I see. You don't want to be seen talking to me."

"Well, yeah, kind of," Cataclysm whispered back.

"It's all right. I understand. Look to your right. You see those two bulldozers?"

"Yes."

"In a few seconds, there should be a hole in the fence next to them. You could slip through unseen. I'll meet you over there. Okay?"

"Okay."

Cataclysm walked around the edge of the lot. Sure enough there was a large hole in the chain link fence that sealed up after she'd gone through. She heard someone approaching and saw Witchcraft come around one of the bulldozers. "Hi," she said with a bright smile. She held out a bottle of water, which Cataclysm took out of reflex more than thirst, and then Witchcraft took a deep drink out of her own bottle. "Phew, thirsty work." She motioned to a pile of lumber and both women sat.

Cataclysm decided to dive in. "I've been thinking about what you said. About me getting a teacher. I don't really know how to find one so I thought you might be able to recommend one."

Witchcraft nodded slowly. "Certainly. I can think of several who would fit the bill." She paused. "Or maybe I could teach you. If you're willing."

"You?" Cataclysm asked suspiciously. "Why?"

"It would be quite interesting to know an intuitive fire mage. I've known only a couple of intuitives in my life. I think we would both learn a lot."

Cataclysm studied her and said, "No, this is bullshit. There's no way you'd teach a gang member magic."

"Not as a rule, no. But I would be willing to teach someone who recovered city defense documents at great personal risk, who stood in defense of Champions Headquarters, who lead a bold charge into a horde of alien soldiers, and who personally rescued a woman trapped well behind enemy lines, several paramedics..." She smirked. "...and a cat."

Cataclysm was embarrassed. "I was just taking care of myself," she mumbled. "All the rest of that just got in the way." She took a drink from the bottle.

"Don't sell yourself short. You went out of your way to help people-"

Cataclysm jumped to her feet. "Look, I'm not some caped do-gooder running around rescuing orphans. I'm a vicious gang bitch who's committed more felonies than the cops know about. I'm the kind of person people like you throw into jail. Don't act like we're on the same side!"

"We were a few days ago," Witchcraft said softly.

"That was different! Are you saying that if I run out and steal some old lady's purse, you're going to turn a blind eye? Or if I use these powers you claim you want to teach me to rob a bank you're going to pat me on the head and give me an A+ for an extracurricular project? You're one of the good guys. I'm one of the bad guys. It's simple."

"Not really," Witchcraft said, unruffled by Cataclysm's tirade. "I know people try to divide the world neatly into boxes--light and dark, good and evil, hero and villain--but reality is more complicated than that. We all have lightness and darkness in us. I'm not blind to your past but I'd rather judge you by who you are and not the company you keep."

"And you think you know who I am?" Cataclysm sneered.

"I know enough. You are loyal to your friends. You are ruthless to your enemies, and yet you have negotiated peaceful alternatives to fighting numerous times. You try to avoid civilian casualties. You see the Maniacs as a community to be supported, not as stepping stones in a path to power. You are also bright, curious and were a good student before you dropped out of school."

Cataclysm frowned. "All that's in my police file?"

"I have no idea. I have other sources of information. Cataclysm, I understand your suspicions about my motives but you need to realize that I was a student of magic long before I joined the Champions. You may be a Maniac but that's not all you are, and being a Champion is not all I am either. I genuinely wish to teach you, but if you would prefer someone else I can give you the names of several wonderful tutors."

Cataclysm studied her for a while. "And if I use this magic you teach me to break the law?"

Witchcraft shrugged. "Then I would feel obligated to stop you, especially since I was the one who gave you power. But I would also be very surprised."

Frustrated, Cataclysm asked, "Why? You say you know my past, so why would you be surprised if I act the same in the future?"

"Because I believe the reason you are on this path is because you had no choice. I hope to show you there are other ways to live your life."

"So you're trying to turn me into your pet hero," Cataclysm sneered.

"No. I'm just offering you choices. How about this. Try it for one week." With a twinkle in her eye she said, "For one week I promise I won't try to turn you into my 'pet hero', and you promise not to-"

"Eat your face off?" Cataclysm said wistfully.

Witchcraft looked confused. "Well, no, I was going to say 'rob a bank'. Facetiously of course. But yours works too."

Cataclysm shrugged. "Inside joke."

"Will you give me a chance? You can quit any time you want to."

Cataclysm debated the idea. The offer seemed to be genuine. Witchcraft was well known as a powerful spellcaster so could probably show her things Cataclysm couldn't even imagine. She really couldn't come up with a single reason to refuse.

"Where would we do this?"

"I suggest Champions Headquarters. We have training facilities there that will make it easier to test what I teach you. There are entrances more discreet than the front doors so you don't need to worry about your friends seeing you come in. But if you want, we could do it somewhere you feel more comfortable."

Again Cataclysm debated and then said, "No, I guess we could try Champions."

* * *

It was several days before the first lesson. Witchcraft was busy on reconstruction projects all over the city, and a few villains had tried to take advantage of the chaos so the heroes were extra busy. Eventually she found the time and invited Cataclysm to meet her inside the Champions building. Witchcraft led her through the building, past a sign reading "Danger Rooms" and into a large, empty chamber.

"I wanted to start with a demonstration," she said. "Many of our lessons will involve drills and fundamentals. Frankly, though they are necessary to a full understanding of magic, they're also pretty boring. So I wanted to start with something dramatic and fun, which will also serve as a cautionary example. I've set the danger room to maximum safety so neither of us will be injured by what you are about to do."

Cataclysm eyed her. "Okay, you've caught my interest. What am I going to do?"

Witchcraft cast a quick spell and a small portal appeared in the air. She reached into it and withdrew a small object. The portal closed as he handed the object to Cataclysm. "Do you know what this is?"

Cataclysm looked at it. "Of course. It's a magical firestarter."

"Ignite it, please," she said with a slightly mischievous look.

Suspiciously, Cataclysm said, "Is this a gag? Some kind of hazing ritual? It's rigged, right?"

"No, no tricks. I promise. But, if I'm right about you, there will be a bit of a surprise."

Cataclysm frowned and held the thing at arm's length. She pressed the activation jewel and the firestarter exploded into a massive ball of fire that swept through the room. Even though she had been expecting something, Cataclysm was stunned. She turned to Witchcraft angrily. Before she could start yelling she felt the device burning her hand and she dropped it. She looked down and saw that it was a twisted lump of metal.

"And that," said Witchcraft, "is how your house burned down."

It took Cataclysm a moment to form the words. "What the fuck just happened?"

"Your innate connection to fire magic means you get a much better response from items enchanted with fire magic. Have you come into contact with other magical items since that day?"

Cataclysm thought for a second. "No," she said slowly. "The Red Banners mess with magic. Maniacs are more about guns and chainsaws."

"It's just as well. Although non-fire items are safe, you should definitely avoid fire-enchanted devices." Witchcraft raised a cautionary finger. "And before you think this would be a powerful weapon, understand that your lack of control means you would hurt yourself or your allies with the explosion."

"But I wasn't hurt," Cataclysm said. "That day in the house, I mean. Although I've been hurt by fire since then so maybe it was coincidence."

"Maybe not. It's possible that you instinctively protected yourself since you were in such danger and other fires haven't been severe enough to trigger that same response. Still, even if that was what happened, you shouldn't trust that it will save you. If you are wrong you could die. Later you will learn how to reliably call up defenses against attacks, especially against fire, but for now you are as vulnerable as anyone."

"All right, then let's get started."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FOR THOSE UNFAMILIAR WITH THE FANDOM  
> The Red Banner are another one of the Westside street gangs. The others are the Black Aces, the New Purple Gang and the Cobra Lords.


	10. School's In Session

> _I'm standing outside The Fight Club, a bar in Westside that was raided by police earlier this evening. MCPD units backed by MARS teams entered the club just after nine o'clock and arrested a number of figures, including Frank "Full Frankie" Zaretti who is rumored to be the leader of the Cobra Lords gang. A spokesperson for MCPD said they had been tipped off that Zaretti was allegedly running an illegal pit-fighting ring that allowed guests to bet on the outcome of brutal battles between superpowered contestants, battles that led to serious injuries or even death. In addition to Zaretti, police also arrested individuals who have been identified so far only as The Mechanic, Professor Annihilator and Black Mace. This is Julie Morgan reporting for WCOC news. Back to you, Rob._

* * *

Cataclysm stood in a parking lot surrounded by heavy industrial buildings. Paper and other garbage littered the parking lot. She faced one building in particular, a squat construct of graffiti-tagged concrete that was about eighty feet away. Five metal doors were set in the front of the building and as she watched they slid open. Behind each door was a humanoid robot armed with an energy sword. The robots marched out in lock step, and as each cleared the doorway another robot appeared behind it. The army of metal men marched towards her steadily and she blasted them with bolts of fire. Each blast felled one but they were coming too fast to be defeated by these slow spells. When they had crossed about half the distance between them, Cataclysm started to recite a new spell. She felt the fire come into her and flung out her arms. A cone of flame shot out, bathing the front line of robots. They marched into the flame resolutely but the heat proved too much for them and they fell. Behind them were more, but they also collapsed under the onslaught of flame.

After a few seconds, Cataclysm was too tired to maintain the roaring holocaust and dropped her arms. She tossed a few fire bolts at the approaching metal horde, a simple spell that re-established her connection with the elemental source of her power. Soon she felt energized enough to lay down another arc of fire and again the hordes fell, but they were closer now. Not only that but they were spreading out. She rotated at the waist, spraying fire over the robots, but the time it took to overwhelm one side of the line gave the other side time to approach. And still the factory continued to belch out clanking warriors.

Again she weakened, and again she had to spatter them with a few weak fire spells while she drew the elemental flame into herself. She grew anxious as she bathed the robots with a third sheet of flame. There seemed to be no end to them and they grew closer in an infuriatingly steady pounding of perfectly-synchronized footfalls. She took a few steps back to give her a bit more time to destroy them as they slowly advanced, but there was a wall only a few feet behind her. There was nowhere to run and the factory produced more and more of them. Desperately she poured more fire into them, but for every one that fell there was another, two more, a hundred more. Soon they were close enough to raise their swords. She threw up quick defensive spells to divert the energy blades, but there were too many of them. She felt them penetrate her arm, her side, her leg. She was overwhelmed and collapsed to the asphalt as dozens of the blades stabbed and slashed into her body.

The robots faded out. Footsteps clicked across the pavement. Witchcraft walked over and squatted down next to her body. "That was wrong," she said.

"Leave me alone," said Cataclysm. "I'm dead."

"That's not going to get you out of the lesson."

"Slave driver." Cataclysm got to her feet, stretching the aches out of her muscles. The danger room had been set on stun, but the pain was real enough. Witchcraft explained that was so she'd react reflexively to being "injured" in the simulations. "So what the fuck was that supposed to teach me? Life sucks?"

Witchcraft smiled. "Not exactly. The goal is to teach you that not every problem can be overcome with force. A problem common to those new to superpowers is to try to blast everything. This tactic may work in most of your battles, but it also breeds carelessness. It's easy to get into a pattern of enemy-bam-enemy-bam-enemy-bam, and then to fall apart once you face an opponent who doesn't fall to your first spell. You need to look at the entire battle, look for weaknesses and exploit them. You can take down a much more powerful foe by finding his Achilles heel."

Cataclysm frowned. She knew that. She had given the same lesson to new Maniacs. Witchcraft shouldn't have had to tell her that. "Play back the recording."

Witchcraft gave the order, and the computer played back a hologram of the battle. Cataclysm watched herself fight, watched the robots approached, watched them overwhelm her. When it was done she had learned nothing. "I don't get it," she had to admit. "If it was one big guy I'd look for weaknesses, but how do you find a hole in a horde of a thousand robots?"

"You're focused on the wrong thing," Witchcraft offered.

Cataclysm was frustrated but knew if Witchcraft just gave her the answer she'd learn nothing. "Play it again." She watched the battle again, but this time didn't look at the robots. She looked at the rest of the area. She looked at the building. Could she jam the doors? Block the robots so more couldn't come? Move to a better position? Hell, even run away?

Then she spotted it. "Got it," she said. "Run it again."

Witchcraft exited the danger room and in a few seconds the industrial park was back. Cataclysm stood there, arms crossed, and watched the factory doors open. The robots started marching out and Cataclysm didn't move. Soon there were dozens of laser-sword-armed metal men marching on her but she remained still. Finally, when the nearest robots were about ten feet off, Cataclysm spread out her arms. However instead of an arc of flame, she shot two streams of fire. They streaked out over the heads of the robots and burned into the concrete of the factory behind them. She moved her arms to walk the flames along the face of the factory until each was directed at a metal box. The boxes started to smoke as the nearest robots raised their swords. The swords came down and boxes both exploded in a shower of sparks. The robots froze, one sword stopping about an inch from Cataclysm's face. The scene faded out.

Witchcraft entered. "A little flashy for my taste," she said. "I know you were showing off because it's a simulation, but be careful. Tricks like are fine in the movies but they get you hurt in real life. You should have taken out the control boxes immediately."

"Oh I know. But you gotta admit it looked cool."

Witchcraft grinned. "Yes. It looked cool."

Cataclysm chuckled and the two women exited the danger room. Over the two months they'd been training, Cataclysm had been surprised to find she liked Witchcraft. Sure, they had different philosophies about some things, but they also seemed to have similar personalities. Witchcraft wasn't the stuck-up, pretentious hero Cataclysm had expected. She didn't lecture about morality or law or any of that crap. In fact, she seemed to understand hard life on the streets, which made Cataclysm curious about her past.

In addition, Witchcraft was an excellent teacher. Cataclysm had expected Witchcraft would immediately show her new ways to blast stuff with fire like she had on that day of the Qularr invasion, but instead she had started with magical basics. Cataclysm had learned an array of minor spells: defense, binding, divination, healing and more. She wasn't especially strong with any of them, but they gave her a fundamental understanding of spells and rites and how magic itself worked. It was like signing up for a firearms course and learning about combustion chemistry and gun manufacture in addition to shooting at targets.

Cataclysm loved it. As Witchcraft had pointed out early on, Cataclysm had been an excellent student. She played it down after joining the Maniacs and she hadn't realized how much she missed studying and learning. Witchcraft gave her plenty of exercises to try at home, and Cataclysm spent most of her day training and becoming stronger.

As the day's lesson had demonstrated, Witchcraft believed brains were more important than power. She emphasized finesse and control first, saying that strength would come later. On their first day, after the dramatic firestarter demonstration, Witchcraft had asked Cataclysm to use her magic to light a candle. Cataclysm had attempted to do so but managed only to blast the candle to smithereens. No matter how hard she tried she couldn't get less than full power. Witchcraft had explained that incendiary magic involved connecting with Fire--Cataclysm could hear the capital "F" when she said it. Fire was the fundamental, elemental force that all other flames were weak reflections of. It was easy to let Fire flow, but harder to control it than other magics. Today Cataclysm could not only light a candle, but she could light a candle floating in a pool of gasoline and surrounded by sheets of tissue paper without burning anything else.

It wasn't all theory and control exercises. As Cataclysm gained general skill with magic, Witchcraft had taught her more powerful spells, such as the cone of flame she had used in the danger room. But that wasn't the best thing Cataclysm had learned. Witchcraft had taught her to fly.

Witchcraft would be quick to correct her, saying she had taught her to levitate. Flight magic was much more difficult. However once she was floating Cataclysm could use blasts of fire to push herself along. There might be technical differences between that and true flight, but when Cataclysm was rocketing across the skies of Millennium City leaving a blazing trail in her wake she didn't care about the distinction.

Cataclysm broke out of her reverie when Witchcraft said, "I was wondering if I could ask you a favor."

"Sure," said Cataclysm. She looked at Witchcraft and realized the other woman looked uncomfortable.

Hesitantly Witchcraft said, "I want to emphasize this is a favor. It's not that you owe me anything for our lessons. It's certainly not an order. If you don't feel comfortable with this, I won't be bothered if you refuse."

"What is it?" Cataclysm asked, her suspicion growing.

"I've received some information that there is something going on in Westside. Something involving the gangs. I thought maybe, since you have connections in that area of the city, you might be able to find something out."

"I'm not selling out my friends," Cataclysm said sharply.

"No, no, no," Witchcraft said quickly. "Of course not. I don't condone the actions of the Maniacs, but I respect your loyalty to them. I'm not asking you to betray that."

"Okay. Sorry." Although her relationship with Witchcraft had become more relaxed, Cataclysm knew she got hyper-defensive any time she thought Witchcraft was hinting about being a hero. She still didn't really understand why Witchcraft was teaching her, other than trying to recruit another cape for the city. "Go ahead."

"The problem is with the New Purple Gang. You know who Wayland Talos is?"

Cataclysm paused. Witchcraft _was_ involved with law enforcement. "Never heard of him. Certainly I have no idea that he's an inventor and armorer who sells weapons to the Westside gangs."

Witchcraft gave her a small smile. "Of course not. Well the New Purple Gang has apparently enlisted Talos's aid exclusively on some special project."

"What kind of project?"

Witchcraft shrugged. "That's all we know. It's not much, which is why I wondered if you could ask around."

Cataclysm knew that if it was something big then it could tip the balance among the gangs and put the Maniacs in danger. "I'm not sure how much help I'd be. My friends aren't really talking to me anymore."

Witchcraft said, "If you'd prefer, I'll just turn the tip over to MCPD."

Cataclysm thought about it and then said, "Nah. Cops'll just screw it up. I'll see what I can find out."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can see from the first paragraph that I'm doing things differently. Zaretti is already out of the picture before she goes on her first mission, and it wasn't Cataclysm who did it.
> 
> I had to sit down and plan out the entire Westside arc before writing any of this. Story-wise, it doesn't make sense for her to do every Westside mission. Her sole motivation is to protect the Maniacs. I have to have a reason for her to do things, and for some of the mission arcs that's difficult. And yet some of the missions, like the jailing of the gang leaders, needs to happen for later missions to make sense, so I handle them as background events.


	11. A Night on the Town

Cataclysm showed her empty glass to the bartender and he grimaced as he lifted his bulk off the stool and plodded over. He took the glass and refilled it from the tap, leaving way too much head. He slammed the glass down, sloshing the beer out, and returned to his stool. She took a sip of the weak beer to wash down the stale pretzels. The bitter smell of the liquor briefly covered up the rank stench coming out of the bathroom behind her. She lowered the glass and looked over the dimly lit bar. The walls were marked with graffiti, the floor stained with booze and a little blood, and the windows were so thick with dust and smoke they barely let any light in at all. God she'd missed this place.

Leo's Bar wasn't technically in Maniacs territory, but a lot of the gang hung out here. She had been sitting at the bar for four hours now. People could see her and if someone wanted to come talk to her, he could sit nearby and not really be _with_ her. It had seemed like a great idea at the3 time, but nobody had come over. They eyed her but that was all. She was careful not to nod at or greet anyone, not wanting to put anyone in an awkward position. If Zoe was still mad, then even acknowledging Cataclysm's presence could result in a beat down or worse. Cataclysm didn't know if they were mad at her or afraid of Zoe. Either way she was getting more depressed as time passed. She saw Tony Madness get up from his table and say good night to the others before heading out the door alone. Cataclysm decided it was time to get a little more aggressive so she finished the beer, put some cash on the bar to cover her tab and followed Tony out.

She knew where he lived and the route he'd probably be taking. She ducked into an alley and then cast her levitation spell. She shot through the maze of little streets, staying out of sight as best as someone trailing fire could, until she got ahead of Tony. She stayed in the shadows and watched him walk along the sidewalk towards her. He wasn't paying much attention to his surroundings. Nobody local would be stupid enough to jump him, and anyone who did was in for a bad night.

As he got close, she called out softly, "Tony, come here."

He jumped and looked around, catching sight of her shadowy figure in the alley. "Who's that?" he asked.

"Come here," she said again.

Tony got suspicious and reached inside his coat. "Who _is_ that? Come out of there."

"For fuck's sake," she sighed. It had been foolish to think he'd step into a dark street at the call of a stranger. She stepped out into the light.

When Tony saw who it was, he looked up and down the street quickly and then hurried into the alley. "The fuck?" he said. "I could get into real trouble being seen with you."

"I know. That's why I'm hiding in the shadows. Come on." She moved deeper into the alley but Tony hesitated. "What?" she said. "You think I'm going to ambush you?"

He grimaced but followed her. She led him into a stinking, trash-filled courtyard where they could see each other in the bright moonlight. She sat down on a trash can and motioned for him to do the same. He didn't, opting instead to lean against a wall. He kept his hand just inside his jacket. "What do you want?" he asked.

"I just want to talk. Wanted to see how the Maniacs are doing."

"Fine. What do you care?"

Cataclysm got to her feet angrily. "Hey, _everything_ I've ever done has been for the Maniacs."

"Is that why you left?"

"I didn't leave. I was kicked out, remember?"

He snorted. "Since when have you ever listened to Zoe? You sure left quick. You didn't even argue with her about it."

Cataclysm paused. He was right. She had thought about that since then. She had been tired and in a shitty mood but that wasn't the reason. She'd been hurt by how quickly everyone turned on her and knew that was part of it, but there was more. "I didn't want people to have to choose sides," she said. "If I'd had it out with Zoe right then, it would have split the gang."

He snorted again but relaxed and took his hand out of his jacket. "It's already done that," he said.

"What do you mean?"

"There's a lot of talk. Some people think you did the right thing. And a lot who think you didn't still think Zoe overreacted." Grudgingly he added, "You were good for us."

Cataclysm cocked her head. "What about you? Where do you stand?"

He looked away. "Frankly, I'm not sure. I think Zoe was right. You should have stayed in Maniac territory, not run off to defend the rich folks uptown. And some of us aren't happy you're still wearing the colors. But...look, I don't know how much good you did, but if the bugs hadn't been stopped there it would have been tough for us. For everyone. You thought you were doing the right thing, even though I don't think it was. We'd have been better off defending our own turf."

Cataclysm sat back down. "What about...everyone else? Where do they stand?"

"You mean Pyro?"

"That's not what I said," she snapped.

"Isn't it? You know, I have to ask myself why you're asking me this shit and not her."

Cataclysm didn't know what to say. Should she say it would hurt too much? She'd held fellow Maniacs as they bled to death in the street and not shed a tear, but Pyro doesn't return a text message and suddenly Cataclysm finds herself getting drunk in the dark and crying to shitty emo music. If Tony had told her to fuck off she could have handled it, but she couldn't face Pyro turning away again. Cataclysm settled for saying, "She's not talking to me."

"She's not talking to anyone," he said. "Lots of people have asked her how she feels about what happened and she just gets mad and walks away. She spends a lot of time alone. She does her bit, stands with us when we need her, but she's shut us out in every other way." He shook his head. "I don't know what her damage is but people are getting kind of sick of it."

Cataclysm couldn't talk right then and the silence between stretched out to the point it got uncomfortable. Tony studied her and then said, "If you're planning to move against Zoe, this is a bad time. For all of us."

Cataclysm forced herself back to the subject at hand. "I'm not," she said. "What do you mean a bad time?"

Tony studied her again and then shrugged. "No real big secret I guess. Everyone is gearing up for something. Zoe's recruiting pretty hard and won't say why. So are all the gangs. We got in some kind of new weapons from Talos but Zoe won't let us open them. She just cackles and says they're for some special target." He shook his head. "Armored car maybe? Bank vault?"

"Capes?" Cataclysm offered.

"Yeah, I thought of that too."

Cataclysm shook her head. "Exactly the kind of flashy shit that just gets cops upset. I told her over and over."

"Yeah," Tony said. "Without you to argue with her she's gotten a little crazy, even for her. I don't know what she's pulling us into. It could be really good or really bad."

"What about the other gangs?"

He said, "Well, you heard about Zaretti, right?" Cataclysm nodded. Tony continued, "The Cobras are trying some kind of new steroid or something. We haven't tangled with them, but I've heard stories that the guys taking it get super strong and super crazy, and not in that good Maniac way. They've been beating up civilians, even their own guys. With Zaretti out of the picture they'll probably be disorganized, but I wonder if that will mean those berserk guys will be even more out of control.

"The Aces have gone real quiet. I hear they have some new leader, Ludwig or something like that. Nobody knows about him. He just seems to have popped in out of nowhere in the last few weeks. He's certainly not one of the lieutenants we know about it. We don't know what to expect from him.

"I'm probably most worried about the Purples. They've been pretty aggressive since Poe took over, but now they've got Talos locked up working on something special."

"Locked up?" she asked. "Like imprisoned?"

He shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe just tight security to keep us out of there."

"You know where?"

"Yeah. There's a warehouse about a block north of the Purple Line headquarters. You can tell which one by all the security outside it. Why?"

"Maybe someone should go take a look."

Tony shook his head. "You go blasting in there, you're going to start a gang war."

Cataclysm raised her eyebrows. "Isn't that what's happening anyhow?"

He looked thoughtful. Slowly he said, "No. It doesn't feel like that. At least not when I talk to Zoe. She's got her eyes on something else. Something bigger."

"All right. I'm just going to look around. I'll stay out of sight."


	12. Purple Problems

> _City police released a statement today giving more information on the recent break-in at the MCPD High Security Storage Bunker. Security footage shows that the intruders were wearing the colors of the Black Aces gang. When asked how a street gang was able to break into a facility designed to keep out supervillains, the spokesman declined to comment. A security expert we consulted suggested that the gang members might have slipped in under the radar, so to speak. The automated security system was meant to recognize extremely powerful intruders and may have been insufficiently equipped to deal with smaller threats._
> 
> _Police have admitted that several crates of Qularr technology were among the missing items, though they would not say whether that included Qularr weaponry. Are Westside street gangs now armed with powerful alien weapons? Is the MCPD prepared to handle such a threat? Only time will tell, and we will be there to keep the citizens of Millennium City informed on this important issue. Reporting for WCOC News, this is Julie Morgan._

* * *

Cataclysm watched the warehouse through binoculars. She was lying on a roof several buildings away, peering from behind the air conditioning equipment so she wouldn't be skylined if anyone looked up. She had been there for a couple of hours now, watching Purples come and go. From what she could see there were quite a few gang members inside the place. Two big guys stood guarding the door outside, eyeing anyone who came in. They stopped some people and talked to them while they let others pass by unmolested.

She had scanned the rest of the building and there were no windows or conveniently oversized air vents she could see. There was a loading dock and a couple of smaller doors, and each entry was guarded by at least two Purples. There didn't seem to be a huge number of people inside and she reasoned she could probably blast her way in, but she thought back to what Tony had said. There was no reason for the Maniacs to be blamed for her actions.

She lowered the binoculars and drummed her fingers on the concrete. She had been mulling over an idea--a really, really dumb idea. If it worked, she could be in and out without trouble. If it didn't? Well she could always resort to burning Purples down, and they wouldn't realize she was the one doing it.

* * *

The New Purple Gang thug slouched against the wall. Guard duty was boring. He'd tried striking up conversations with his partner on duty, but the other guy was pretty dull and the exchanges petered out after a few sentences. So he stood there, counting cracks in the sidewalk and wishing his shift was over. He straightened up and put on his best scowl as a woman came around the corner and headed towards them. She was wearing the standard New Purple Gang outfit: purple suit jacket with black gloves, pants and bow tie. She seemed to be having a little trouble keeping her purple fedora on. As she got closer he stepped out to block the door. "Who are you?"

"I've got a message from the boss from Talos," she said, pulling a piece of paper out of her jacket.

He reached out for it. "I'll see he gets it."

She pulled it back. "Boss said I was to give it right to him. Said very bad things would happen to me if Talos doesn't get this."

The thug peered at her. "I don't know you, newbie."

She shrugged. "Yeah and I don't know you either, oldie." His scowl deepened and she continued quickly, "Look, Poe has me running around doing all this trivial shit. He wants me to get him a fucking latte on the way back. I joined the gang because I thought I'd be cracking a few heads. I didn't know I was going to be a goddamn secretary. You know I don't think women are treated very fairly in this gang-"

He rolled his eyes and said, "Oh shut up and just go in already. Talos is in the basement." She nodded and reached for the door handle. He reached out and grabbed her shoulder. "Another thing. That's _Mister_ Poe to you, newbie. Don't forget that."

"Yeah, OK, I'll remember."

The woman went inside the warehouse, adjusting her fedora again. There were about a dozen gang members working around the warehouse but they ignored her. Her eyes darted around and spotted a bathroom near the stairs. She ducked in and closed the door. She looked at herself in the mirror and shook her head. "God I look like a dork," she sighed.

Cataclysm took off her hat and adjusted the hair net. It had been easy enough to find the clothing. "Gang-chic" was a popular fashion among the uptown kids. Occasionally one of them was stupid enough to wander into Westside wearing this kind of stuff. It wasn't a mistake they made twice, assuming they survived the initial beating. She'd bought this stuff and roughed it up so it looked a little more like the real thing, but she had been unsure it would pass inspection. Apparently she looked fine.

She felt naked without her usual facepaint, but it had been easy enough to remove. The real problem had been her hair. She knew she should have cut it, but it had taken her a long time to get the hair style she liked. She settled for wrapping up her spiky hair in a hair net and putting the fedora over it. It looked fine at first, but the hat tended to slip. She secured it better and exited the bathroom.

She headed down the stairs which opened onto a short corridor that ended in a heavy door. In front of the door were two more thugs. She approached and gave them the same "message for Talos" line, which they accepted without question. One turned and tapped a code into a keypad next to the door. The other eyed her but more out of curiosity than suspicion. The door rose slowly with a loud grinding noise and she could see it was much thicker than she had expected. She gave one of the guards a questioning look. "Things tend to blow up in there," he said, nodding to the opening door. "Be careful. Hit the button next to the door when you're ready to come out."

She nodded and entered the room beyond. It was a large laboratory with pieces of guns and other munitions scattered around. At one end was a shooting range. At one of the workbenches, a man in some kind of light body armor tinkered with what looked like a rocket launcher. Cataclysm looked over the room very carefully as the massive door behind her slowly slid shut. The man looked up at her and then went back to work, saying, "What do you want?"

"I have a message from Mr. Poe," she said, mostly for the benefits of the guards outside the still closing door.

Talos sighed. "Another one. What is it this time?"

The door shut with a boom and Cataclysm stepped closer to the man. "Pretty thick walls," she observed.

He looked around. "I guess so," he said absently, still focused on his work.

"Seems like nobody will hear you when you start screaming," she said.

"I suppose not," he said. It took him a second and then he looked up and said, "Wait, what?" Cataclysm just smiled at him as she walked closer. He looked panicked. "Wait, wait. I've done everything Poe asked." He started to back away. "He has no reason to be unhappy with me. I sold the sabotaged weapons to the gangs like he said. Do you know what that will do to my reputation? I have a business to run. It will take me years to regain the trust of my customers. I built the psi-bomb, even after I told him what could go wrong. I know I argued with him sometimes, but I always did what he said."

Cataclysm was surprised by his first comment. "Tell me more about the sabotaged weapons," she said.

"Tell you what? I did like he asked. All the weapons I've sold to the other gangs have been trapped. Some of them are fine but some will blow up the first time they're used." He looked puzzled. "But wait, if you're from Poe you'd know that. Who are you?"

She saw his hands go beneath the workbench and she blasted him in the chest with a bolt of fire. He wasn't expecting that and it knocked him off his feet. She quickly circled around to get a clear shot at him as he scrambled to his feet and grabbed a gun off another worktable. She blasted him again but he was braced and brought the gun to bear. She threw up a quick defensive spell and deflected the bullets to one side. Again she hit him with a bolt of fire but he just laughed. "This armor protects me against lab explosions. You won't be able to penetrate it."

"Oh? I wonder how it does against prolonged heat." She spread her arms and bathed him in flame, keeping it up as long as she could. She saw him throw up arms up, trying to ward off the searing heat, and when she let up on her attack she could see his armor was smoking. "You should really make the next version of that armor more fireproof," she said. She advanced on him, pelting him with fire attacks.

"OK! OK!" he squealed, dropping his gun. "I'll tell you what you need, just don't hurt me!"

"Good," she said, walking up to him and throwing an arm around his shoulders. She held up a hand in front of his face and let flames dance among her fingers. "Talk quickly and don't do anything that might make me cranky."

"OK," he said, coughing in the smoke rising from the smoldering patches on the surface of his armor. "What do you want to know?"

"Tell me about this bomb," she said.

"This was a special project Mr. Poe had me work on. It's a psionic bomb. It locks onto...um, do you know much about psychomystic signals?"

"Pretend I don't."

"Well, everyone with superpowers has this sort of signature. It doesn't matter if it's mutation, technology, magic, psychic power, or anything else. All superpowered people have a psychomystic signature. This bomb sends out a massive psionic pulse that should affect only people with that signature. Basically, anyone with superpowers in a five mile radius will have their brains turned to jelly. But he wouldn't listen to me when I told him about the problem."

"What problem?"

"Well, everyone has this psychomystic signature to some degree. In most people it's so low it's nearly undetectable, but that 'nearly' is the problem. I kept telling him that I wasn't sure the bomb could discriminate between high and low signals. I mean it will probably work like he wants, but there's also a slim chance that it will simply fry _everybody's_ brains. Personally, I intend to get as far away as possible when he sets it off."

"And when is that going to be?"

"Two days. I was planning to leave town tomorrow morning."

"How do I stop the bomb?"

"It shouldn't be hard. The bomb's not booby-trapped or anything. The psychic pulse is pretty tricky to instigate so you aren't going to set it off accidentally. The safest move would probably be to sever the cable between the bomb and the control panel. However if you can't manage that, just ripping out wires in the bomb itself should work."

She had more questions, but suddenly the fire sprinklers came on and an alarm started blaring. Apparently the smoke from his suit had finally triggered something. She heard a voice over the intercom. "Is everything all right in there?" She motioned for him to be quiet as her mind raced. The intercom said, "Mr. Talos? We're coming in." The big door started its slow and loud rise.

In a low voice she said, "Do you have any idea what Poe would do if he found out you squealed?" Talos nodded. "It's nothing compared to what I'll do. Got it? Keep your mouth shut." Talos nodded again, looking afraid.

The door opened and the two thugs stood in the doorway, not coming in because of the sprinklers. Cataclysm turned to them. "This guy is fucking crazy!" she said. "I'm just talking to him and suddenly he says, 'oops' and something blows up. I'm getting out of here."

She started towards the door. One of the thugs said, "Are you all right, Mr. Talos?"

"Yes," he said, his voice shaking. "Just part of the job, heh."

Neither of the thugs tried to stop her. She was dripping wet as she exited the lab. "I don't envy you guys your jobs," she said over her shoulder and she heard one of them chuckle. She walked up the stairs quickly and into the main warehouse. A couple of the New Purple Gang she passed glanced at her sopping suit and smirked. Nobody seemed all that concerned about the alarm, which shut off as she was about halfway to the exit. It was just another day in Talos's lab.

She was debating with herself as she exited the warehouse but she already knew what the next step was. Talos had said it would be two days before Poe set off the bomb, but she didn't trust him to keep quiet. If word got out he had talked, Poe would either ramp up security or just blow the bomb early. A jelly-brained future didn't interest her, and she certainly didn't want anything to happen to the Maniacs, so she headed straight for the headquarters of the Purple Line. On her way she pulled out her phone and dialed.

"Madness," said the voice at the other end.

"It's Cataclysm," she said. Tony sputtered a bit and she continued, "Look I don't care who's in the room with you. Don't talk just listen. Talos is in Poe's pocket. Those guns he sold you guys are booby trapped. Zoe won't listen to me but she might listen to you. I don't care how you say you got the information. Say a little elf visited you in a dream for all I care. But convince her or our people are going to die. Okay?"

He paused and then said, "Yeah."

"Great. Later." She hung up.

There were no guards outside Purple Line headquarters, but this was technically a business so thugs on the street might have attracted the wrong kind of attention. Then again everyone in the city knew the delivery business was involved with the New Purple Gang, though the cops had never been able to prove the connection. She entered the main door to enter a shabby reception area with a corridor leading deeper into the building. A muscular man in a purple t-shirt was sitting behind a desk. "Whaddya want?" he asked.

She decided to try the same gambit. "Message for the boss from Talos."

"What happened to you?" he asked, eyeing her wet clothing.

She gave a dramatic sigh. "Fire sprinklers in Talos's lab. That guy is a serious hazard. Hope he's doing us some good. Anyhow that accident is what he wants me to talk to Mr. Talos about." She started to walk past him. "I'll just be a second."

She stopped as she heard the gun cock. She threw a look over her shoulder and saw the receptionist pointing a pistol at her. "What the fuck?" she said.

"I don't know who you are, but you ain't seeing the boss."

"What do you mean you don't know who I am? I joined up a couple weeks ago."

He shook his head and tugged his t-shirt. "These colors don't run," he said.

She looked down and saw the purple dye from her jacket staining the white shirt underneath. "Goddamn cheap department store shit," she sighed. "Fine, can I at least take the wet jacket off? I'm not packing." She opened her jacket to show him. He motioned for her to go ahead.

She hadn't meant the move to be anything clever. She was just getting uncomfortable in the heavy, sodden fabric. But as she stripped off the jacket his eyes dropped. Cataclysm was pretty flat-chested, but put any women in a damp, white shirt and guys get distracted. "You can see I'm not wearing a gun," she said, taking a breath. "Why don't you put that thing away before you hurt somebody."

He looked at her eyes briefly, then at the gun, then back to her chest. He didn't put the weapon away but he lowered it, and that was all she needed. Contrary to what the movies show, you can't outshoot someone pointing a gun at you, but now that the weapon wasn't aimed directly at her she had the split second she needed. She blasted him twice and he fell before he could get the gun back up.

She heard someone say, "Did you hear that?" Then the voice yelled out, "Hey, Tommy, you okay out there? Tommy?" Cataclysm realized that stealth wasn't going to work here so she quickly moved to the wall next to the hallway. "Let's check it out," said the unseen speaker. She pressed back against the wall as two pairs of shoes clicked down the corridor. As soon as the two thugs entered she bathed them in a sheet of flame. They turned, raising their weapons, but they were confused and surprised. They got a couple of wild shots off but none of them came near her. They went down, but the noise had already done its damage. She could hear voices down the corridor.

Cataclysm figured her best bet was speed. It was the same plan she'd used against the Qularr. The Purples might know something was going on, but they wouldn't know who or how many or even that it was an attack until she was well past them. She moved quickly into the corridor and saw a half-dozen doorways along the walls, and closed double doors at the end. She charged loudly down the hallway, hearing surprised voices as she passed. She reached the double doors, turned and waited. A couple of guys came into the hall from the doorways but they didn't have their weapons out. She poured a stream of fire down the corridor and they yelled and pulled back. She directed the fire wider and soon the walls were aflame. That gave her an idea.

She pushed through the double doors and into the large space beyond. There was nobody here, but there were lots of crates. Cataclysm poured fire over them until they started to smolder, and then she moved on. As she made her way through the building she continued to send blasts and streams of fire into random rooms and down side corridors, not stopping to engage people directly. Soon she could hear yells of panic and confusion. Nobody knew what was happening, only that it was time to get out.

She was so happy with how the plan was working that she skidded around a corner, still blasting fire from her hands, without looking to see who might be there. She ran right into a trio of big bruisers. "What are you doing?" demanded one.

"It's a fire," she yelled, hoping the confusion would keep them from looking at her too closely. Not only was her shirt stained with purple dye, but she'd lost her hat and hairnet. Her haircut was quite unconventional for the New Purple Gang. "We have to get out!" she insisted.

One of the thugs scratched his head. "Wait," he said slowly. "We don't have anyone in the gang who can..." His eyes widened. "It's a cape!" he yelled. He turned to bellow down the corridor. "Capes! It's a raid!"

She didn't even bother to curse, just started to bring up the flame. Unfortunately the three bruisers were close and were on her before she could get the spell off. They pummeled her with their fists and then one grabbed her in a tight bear hug. She grunted but forced her mind to focus on the task. Without her arms free to perform the gestures the spell was harder, but she managed to call up a sheet of fire. The searing flames made them back off, and that gave her room to blast them and finish them off. However, more Purples came around the corner. She darted into a doorway as one sprayed the hallway with a Tommy gun, and she felt a bullet tear through her calf. The pain made her stumble and she fell to the ground.

She had to ignore the wound. Witchcraft had taught her some healing spells, but they required time and concentration so couldn't be used during a fight. The gunner loomed in the doorway and hammered bullets into the office. He was shooting high, expecting her to be on her feet, so her sudden stumble probably saved her life. She shot flames and took him down, but two more musclemen came in after him. These two were armed with heavy pipes. She was exhausted but sprayed fire at them and they collapsed before they could reach her.

Cataclysm regained her knees, panting for breath. Her body was covered in bruises but she didn't think anything was broken. The gunshot wound was bleeding faster than she liked. She cast the healing spell and the wound stopped bleeding, though the pain was still there. She cursed her combat sloppiness. She'd spent too much time in predictable danger room missions. It had been too long since she'd seen the chaos of real action. She swore she'd be more careful.

She moved more slowly now, both out of caution and due to the pain in her leg. She cursed herself again, this time for not bringing any healing patches. When she'd switched to the Purple Gang outfit she hadn't transferred the capsules over. It was a stupid move that just might cost her. She was acting like some newbie in her first gang rumble. Well it was too late now. It's not like she could ask everyone to wait politely while she ran home for a sec.

Cataclysm faced two more groups of Purples, but she was able to take them out without any trouble. Soon she came to the end of a corridor that opened into a huge chamber. About half the room was occupied by stacks of crates and shelves of cardboard boxes, but the rest of the place had been cleared to make room for a very large contraption of some kind. Next to the contraption was a tall man standing in front of a control panel. There were also about a dozen New Purple Gang thugs scattered about the room.

The man at the control panel looked up as she entered. He was wearing a purple overcoat and a gas mask. Since no one else was wearing a gas mask, she assumed it was more for dramatic effect than anything else. She doubted it was to hide his identity since this was obviously Kevin Poe. "We have incoming, you incompetent dolts!" Poe said. "Reset those capacitors NOW!"

He turned to her as technicians fussed over the psi-bomb and the Purple Gang thugs lined up to face her. He said, "Well, well, well, look who's already here. Why you're just in time," he chuckled nastily, "to be _too late_! Think hard while you still can! I'm about to liquidate the brains of every citizen of Westside. When me and my New Purple Gang take over this town, it's going to be so awesome! I promise, it'll leave you idiots drooling. New Purple Gang, attack!"

To her surprise, Poe didn't attack but turned back to his control panel. Cataclysm moved into the cover of the crates as the thugs opened fire. She suspected Poe was trying to set off the bomb and that meant she'd have to move quickly to stop him.

The thugs spread out. About half of them had guns but the rest were big bouncer types. She was less worried about them, but she knew she had to stay on her toes. She darted quickly among the boxes, spraying fire at gang members as they showed themselves. They peppered the area with gunfire but she kept under cover and kept her defensive spells up. She couldn't actually stop a bullet with her magic, but she could deflect its path a bit. That could turn a fatal hit into a serious injury, a serious injury into a flesh wound, and a flesh wound into a miss.

Her fighting skills had the usual side effect--soon many of the crates were in flames and the room was filling with smoke. Her eyes burned and she coughed constantly but she wouldn't back off. She broke through to the large open area near where Poe was still frantically punching controls on the bomb's panel. She started a spell but he suddenly whirled and drew twin pistols, and she was forced to roll to the side to avoid the stream of bullets. She waited until she heard clips hit the floor and popped up as he was reloading. She sent fire streaming towards him but he backflipped over the panel, firing at her as he twisted in the air.

"Okay," she said to herself as she dove for cover again. "Got to admit that was a pretty cool move."

Poe's pistol moves, although flashy, weren't very accurate. She found it easy to avoid or deflect his bullets. She blasted him again and he didn't dodge this one. The blow staggered him but she had to duck as he resumed firing. When she heard the clips eject, she popped up to attack but realized Poe was chanting a spell. Cataclysm hesitated. She didn't know the specific incantation but she recognized necromantic magic. She gasped and fell to her knees as she felt the dark energy reach out for her, go right through her defensive spell and suck out her life force. She racked her brain to remember how to block dark magic and threw up a quick barrier.

Cataclysm was disoriented from the dark attack and didn't react quickly as he pulled his pistols. Her body was sluggish as she tried to get under cover. She took another bullet to the same leg as before, the thigh this time, and one to her bicep. The pain was overwhelming and between the lifestealing spell and the wounds she was getting light headed. However rather than coming after her to finish her off, she heard Poe go back to the control panel.

She struggled to get to her feet. She knew she was too focused on Poe. She wasn't watching for other gang members. She hoped they had all fled by now. She raised her arm to throw another fire spell, and Poe turned in a flash and fired. She changed the fire spell to a defensive spell and felt the impact of the bullets as they ricocheted off her weak shield. Cataclysm stumbled and fell into the burning crate behind her.

The fire swirled around her but it didn't burn. Instead she felt it wrap around her like a cloak. Cataclysm stood and the fire came with her, outlining her form. She reached out and pulled in the fire from surrounding crates, intensifying the flames around her. She felt a comforting warmth seep into her, soothing her bruises and wounds. She looked down and none of the wounds were bleeding. She didn't have time to wonder what happened. She turned to Poe, filled with renewed vigor.

She was ready for Poe's attacks this time. She avoided his bullets, blocked his dark magic, and blasted him with fire bolts as often as she could between defensive moves. He had a rhythm to his attacks and once she figured it out she knew she had the upper hand. Her attacks were stronger, this cloak of fire somehow facilitating her connection with elemental Fire. Poe grew steadily weaker while Cataclysm felt her power growing. Finally he just collapsed in exhaustion, an anticlimactic ending to the battle.

Cataclysm let out a sigh and relaxed, and the flames around her flickered and died. As they did, the exhaustion came on her again, like the crash after taking uppers. The smoke in the room burned her throat and eyes, and the pain of her wounds was less but still there. She pushed herself forward, past Poe, to find the cable that connected the control panel to the bomb. She looked up to see the bomb technicians watching her warily. They didn't seem armed so she just motioned for them to get out. They fled. She summoned up her power and sent a sharp spear of fire into the cable, severing it cleanly.

She looked down at Poe. He was still breathing. She'd never been much for killing unconscious foes. The bomb was damaged but not gone. Cataclysm grumbled but she knew what she had to do. She looked around the room but couldn't see a phone. She went back into the corridor and found an office. She reached for the phone. She was glad the faux New Purple Gang outfit included gloves; the cops had her fingerprints. She punched in the phone number.

"911, what is your emergency?"

"I'm at the headquarters to the Purple Line delivery company. There is a psychic bomb here, built by Kevin Poe, the head of the New Purple Gang. Poe is here but unconscious. Most of the Purple Gang in the building have been taken out. I need cops, fire and ambulance. Cops better bring the bomb squad. The bomb is disabled but I don't know how safe it is." She thought about ratting out Talos, but he'd been helpful. Besides, except for the recent transaction, he was a good source of weapons for the Maniacs.

"Are you injured?" asked the operator.

"No," Cataclysm lied.

"What is your name?"

Cataclysm ignored the question. "Get help here soon. The building's on fire and I'm not sure what will happen if the fire reaches the bomb. It's not explosive, but it still might be dangerous." She hung up.

She was too tired to fight anyone else. She cast her levitation spell and rocketed down the hall. She didn't encounter anyone else in the building but, as she expected, there were a lot of Purple Gang milling about outside. She shot out the door and immediately rocketed upward to get herself on the roof of the building. She heard a few shots ring out but she was behind cover quickly. She streaked off into the night.

* * *

Witchcraft listened to the story with her mouth agape. When Cataclysm finished, Witchcraft didn't seem to know what to say, finally settling for, "Wow. Amazing."

Cataclysm shrugged. "You seem surprised," she said, a little annoyed.

"Yes and no. I'm certainly not surprised you did so well, but I never expected you would handle the situation so thoroughly and with such initiative. I would have been happy if you had simply told me about Talos and the bomb and left it for me to take it from there. I'm very proud of you."

Cataclysm was surprised by the praise, and mildly irritated at how pleased she was by it. She'd stopped caring much what people though a long time ago and it bothered her that she was so elated by Witchcraft's words. Wanting to change the subject, she said, "What happened with the fire? It's like it strengthened and healed me."

Thoughtfully, Witchcraft said, "That's not surprising. Although we've focused on the destructive side of fire, you yourself have talked about it's comforting warmth. I had planned to introduce the constructive aspects of fire magic in later lessons."

Cataclysm nodded. "It gives life and it takes life."

"Yes, exactly. Beautifully put. I think this was another aspect of your instinctive connection with fire magic, the same ability that saved your life when your house burned down. I think we should explore this more now that you have shown a facility with it. With study you should be able to call up this cloak of fire at will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you know that "bicep" isn't really a word? Well sort of. "Biceps" is both singular and plural. However "bicep" has been misused for so long, even by professionals, that it appears in many dictionaries as correct though many people argue it is not.
> 
> And did you know that, contrary to what many people including me believe, smoke does NOT set off sprinkler systems? It's actually the heat from the fire. I found that out when I used the fire sprinkler thing again in a later chapter but it's not worth fixing this chapter now.


	13. Westside Story

> _WCOC News has uncovered more information about the mass kidnapping at the Millenium Gardens Hotel yesterday. Although MCPD has not yet released a statement on the incident, intrepid reporter Julie Morgan interviewed several hotel workers and guests who witnessed the raid. They said the attackers all wore the colors of the Black Aces gang. You may remember that the Black Aces allegedly robbed the MCPD High Security Storage Bunker a few weeks ago and made off with several crates of Qularr technology, most of which has not been recovered. According to our investigations, all of the guests abducted from the hotel were scientists and engineers visiting Millenium City to study other Qularr technology recovered from the invasion. So it appears the Black Aces not only have Qularr weapons but now have the experts they need to get them working. We have made several efforts to contact the MCPD and PRIMUS but have not received any official statements yet._
> 
> _Now let's go to Ryan Santana who has a live report on the zoo's new baby panda._

* * *

Cataclysm came around the pile of shipping containers and stopped when she saw the man ahead of her. He was looking out over the river smoking a cigarette. She silently moved up behind him and he didn't react to her presence. Anyone hanging out on the docks at this time of night should really be more aware of his surroundings. She leaned forward and said into his ear, "Boo!"

He jumped and whirled to face her, the cigarette falling forgotten to the ground and the moonlight glinting off the knife in his hand. She clucked her tongue. "You're getting slow, Anton."

Anton Romero let out his breath and lowered the knife. "Jesus you scared the shit out of me." He sheathed the blade and pulled out another cigarette. Cataclysm gestured and the end of the cigarette flamed up. He raised his eyebrows and puffed the cigarette to life. "Cute trick," he said.

"I'm full of cute tricks," she said. "How've you been?"

"Good. You?"

"Keeping busy."

Anton nodded absently. "Thanks for meeting me out here. Sorry to be so cloak and dagger about it but..." He trailed off.

Cataclysm shrugged. "I get it. Zoe wouldn't want you talking to me. You're not the first one I've had to meet like this." She smirked and added, "But I suspect you know that." She had been surprised when Anton had called her and said he needed her help. She knew him but they weren't really friends. However he _was_ friends with Tony Madness.

"No idea what you're talking about," Anton said with a lopsided grin. "I don't know anyone who's been talking to you."

"Of course. And you're not talking to me now. So what do you need?"

He took a long drag on the cigarette, lighting up his face in a red glow. He didn't dress as dramatically as the other Maniacs, eschewing the makeup and wild hairdos. He settled for just lots of leather, spiked gloves, and a cool viciousness that few Maniacs could match. That latter quality is why Cataclysm was surprised when he said, "There's this girl."

She wasn't sure what to say to that, so she stayed silent and let him continue.

He shifted uncomfortably and said, "I met her about four months ago. We've gotten pretty serious. In fact I want to marry her."

This conversation was not going at all as Cataclysm had expected. "Okay," she said slowly. "What, you want me to be best man?"

He took a deep breath and said, "Her name is...Quan Qi." When Cataclysm didn't react he repeated, "Qi."

She mulled over that name for a few seconds and suddenly it clicked. "Oh, for fuck's sake. As in Red Banner Clan Lord Qi?"

"She's his daughter."

She threw up her hands. "Oh, dude. Are you fucking kidding me? How the hell did you meet Qi's daughter?"

"At the hospital," he said. "I was visiting Bloody Alice. You remember she got shot a few months back? Well I stopped in the cafeteria on my way out. There was this girl there. She was cute so I sat down near her and struck up a conversation. I wasn't in my colors of course so she didn't realize I was one of the Maniacs." Mercy Hospital didn't allow visitors to wear gang gear. "At first I was just flirting but we hit it off so I asked her out. I didn't mention anything about the gangs and neither did she. I didn't know her last name or where she lived or anything. It wasn't until like our fourth date that we realized the problem. And by then it was too late. We were in love."

Cataclysm shook her head. "Lord Qi's daughter. Why not the mayor's daughter while you're at it?"

"She's not actually part of the Red Banners," he said quickly. "In fact she hates what her father does and all the gang crap."

"And she's okay with you being one of the Maniacs?"

"Well, no not really. She and her cousin actually keeps nagging me to get out of the gang. But I won't," he said strongly. "The Maniacs are my family and I'm not going to turn my back on them."

Cataclysm rubbed her temples. "This is giving me a headache. So where do I come into this tragic romance? Am I supposed to convince her the Maniacs are fun-loving jokesters?"

"No," Anton said with a shake of his head. "She seems to respect my desire to stay in the gang, though her cousin won't let it go. But that's not the point. We were going to run away and get married but her father found out. He's imprisoned her in their home and won't let us see each other. That's where I need you. I want you to rescue her. Get her out of there "

"I have a better plan. Forget about her and move on with your life. Come on, daughter of a clan lord? You'd be better off finding someone else."

He cocked his head and studied her. "You've never been in love, have you?"

Cataclysm shrugged. "Sure, I've been with guys before."

"No. I don't mean dating or sex." Anton sighed, "I mean love. When you meet that person who becomes like the air in your lungs. If I can't breathe her in then I die. I hear her name in every breath of wind. I look up at the night sky and see her face in the stars. We are one heart and a body cannot life with only half a heart."

She looked at him for a time and then said, "And love means talk like that doesn't make you want to puke?" He looked offended and she waved him off. "Kidding, dude. All right it sounds like you got it bad. I suppose you aren't going to listen to reason."

"If you won't help me than I will rescue her myself."

"You'll get killed," she warned.

"Possibly. But I would rather die trying to be with her than live an empty life without her."

Cataclysm snorted. "Okay I'll help, but seriously you need to stop talking like that."

* * *

Quan Qi looked out the barred windows of her room and watched the birds perched on the power lines outside. She envied their freedom. She wasn't even allowed to leave her room except under guard, and wasn't allowed to leave the house at all. She had tried to talk to her father over and over about Anton but he refused to hear her. All she could do was stay here and pine for Anton.

To make things worse, she had nothing to distract her from those thoughts. Her father wouldn't let her have a computer or telephone so she couldn't reach Anton. There was a television but nothing to watch. She wrote love letters Anton would never see, read books she couldn't focus on or meditated to pass the hours. Who knew how long it would be before her father let her out?

Quan thought about doing some meditation now, but she could hear some of the warriors practicing. Their weapon clangs and grunts were distracting and would make it hard to concentrate. She furrowed her brow. There were other sounds there. Was a sorcerer training with them? That was unusual. Magic caused too much collateral damage so her father's sorcerers trained in a gym nearby rather than in the house. That was odd--the sounds seemed to be getting closer.

She yelped in surprise as the door burst open in an explosion of smoke and fire. A burning figure came into the room, leaving smoking footsteps in the very expensive rug by the door. Quan recoiled at the intruder and shouted, "Help! Help me!" hoping some Red Banner warriors would come, but she suspected there weren't any left in the house.

The figure let the flames die, revealing a woman dressed in leather and chains with spiky hair and clown makeup. Somehow she found this person scarier than the body of flame that had faced her before. As the flames flickered out the woman stumbled, clearly exhausted. "It's okay," she said breathlessly. "Anton sent me. I'm Cataclysm."

Quan paused and then sat heavily on the bed. "No, no, no, no, no," she said with distress. "That sweet and foolish boy."

Cataclysm was surprised and annoyed by this reaction. "You don't understand. I'm here to rescue you."

Quan looked up at the woman and said, "Yes, I understand, but I will not go with you."

Cataclysm was stunned by her admission. "What? Why?"

Quan looked out the door and seemed more alarmed. "We don't have much time. More Red Banner will be here soon. Thank heaven my father was out of the house. Listen. What you have done is a grave insult to my father, my family and my clan. To come in and simply take me is an appalling thing to do." She raised her hand to forestall Cataclysm's response. "To my clan that is. I realize that is the way of the Maniacs, but that is not the way the Red Banner do things. This kind of brutish action is a slap in the face to my family." She sighed. "I love Anton, but he can be so hot-headed sometimes. He should have come to my father and spoken to him with respect and asked for my hand. Perhaps an arrangement could have been reached. But this? For you to burst in, attack my father's personal clan of warriors, damage his house, and abduct his daughter?" She shook her head. "This has made the situation much worse." Quan looked over Cataclysm. "Couldn't you have at least come in disguise? In street clothes?"

Cataclysm frowned. "I've done that before. Didn't care for it. I'm proud of who I am and I won't hide from that."

Quan grimaced. "I thought that kind of destructive gang pride was limited to the men. I had hoped the women would be more...civilized about it." She waved it off. "No matter, we may be able to fix this. You must leave immediately, and without me. I will speak to my father and I believe I can calm his anger and prevent him from declaring war on the Maniacs over this."

"You don't want to be with Anton?" Cataclysm asked in confusion. If Anton had been deluding himself about this relationship, Cataclysm was going to go kick his ass.

"Of course I do. I can't imagine a life without him. But if we were to run away like this, it would lead to war. We should not be mourning the deaths of our friends during our wedding."

"So what do we do?"

"We must resolve this by the code of the Red Banner. My people greatly respect honor. Single combat is considered a better measure of a warrior's valor than the chaos of battles in the streets. You can't take me, but you might be able to earn me."

Catcalysm snorted. "Earn you? Like property?"

"I know our traditions may seem outdated, but they are the traditions my father follows. Right or wrong, the only chance of Anton and I living a happy life is to do this my father's way."

Cataclysm ran her fingers through her hair with a sigh. "Fine. What is your father's way?"

"Do you know the warriors Iron and Gold?" asked Quan. Cataclysm nodded. They were twins, brother and sister, and supposed to be the greatest individual warriors of the Red Banners. From what she had heard, only their youth prevented them from being Clan Lords themselves.

Quan continued, "They each carry one of the twin Blood Swords. If you were to challenge and defeat each of them in single combat, win the swords, and then present both blades to my father I believe he would agree to accept them in exchange for my freedom. But you must move quickly before this foolish action of yours spirals out of control. You should go challenge each of them immediately."

Cataclysm sighed. She was already tired and injured from fighting her way to Quan but she knew the girl was right. In fact she should have realized this was the wrong way from the beginning. The Red Banner respected honor more than martial might. "Fine. Where do I find them?"


	14. If I Can Stop Quan's Heart From Breaking

> _This is Julie Morgan reporting for WCOC News. I'm standing outside the home of County Prosecutor George Kruger who appears to have been kidnapped. A neighbor says she woke up when she heard yelling about 3 am. She looked outside and saw several figures forcing a man into a car. She called the police who arrived within minutes, but the car had already left. Police searched the house and found signs of a forced entry and some blood stains. They are using the neighbor's description to try and track down the car. MCPD says they have no leads at this time, but Kruger is well known for his tough stance on crime and his public diatribes against the Westside gangs, calling them "a blight on our society that should be cut out like cancer". It is possible this abduction was revenge, instigated by one of the many people he has put in prison._

* * *

Cataclysm pulled up to the curb and stopped the car. She turned to Anton. "Remember. Keep your cool. Speak with respect. Ask don't demand. Got it?" Anton nodded. She said, "Let's go."

They got out of the car and the Red Banners nearby all suddenly became very alert. Their hands went to their weapons but Cataclysm and Anton turned their palms out to show they were empty. Well, Cataclysm turned one hand out. In the other she held the Blood Swords, gripping them by their sheaths so they were clearly not a threat. As Anton and Cataclysm approached Lord Qi's house, the Red Banner guards watched them carefully but didn't actually draw their blades.

"We wish to see Lord Qi," she said. "I have a gift for him," she added, raising the swords.

The biggest guard started forward. "Give those to me, Maniac," he growled.

Cataclysm stood tall and said, "If Iron and Gold couldn't hold onto the Blood Swords, do you really think you can take them from me?" Then, realizing she was just goading him into action, she added, "Besides, what would Lord Qi think of you treating visitors like this?"

That got to him. He snorted and took a step back. "Wait here." He went inside. After a few minutes he returned and beckoned them inside.

He led them to a large, richly-furnished room. The tile floor was laid with delicate patterns and silk tapestries lined the wall. It was surprising to see this much luxury in any Westside home. There were about a dozen Red Banners standing around the edges of the room. At the far end stood Lord Qi and Quan. She was flanked by two of the biggest thugs Cataclysm had seen so far, both armed with massive hammers.

Cataclysm had told Anton that he had to be the one to speak. She was just there as muscle. He wasn't that eloquent but she hoped he could pull this off. She had told him all she knew about Red Banner protocols, which wasn't much. Anton walked to the edge of the carpet leading towards Lord Qi and bowed slightly to him. Lord Qi made an even smaller bow in return.

"Lord Qi," Anton said, reciting the speech Cataclysm had gotten him to memorize, "I have come to ask you for the hand of your daughter, Quan. I bring the Blood Swords as a gift for you if you will grant me this boon."

Qi studied Anton and then looked past him at Cataclysm. "You," he snapped. "Are you the one who invaded my home?"

She had known this was coming. She stepped forward and bowed. "Yes, Lord Qi. I offer my humble apologies. Anton knew nothing of this," she lied. "I acted on my own and I hope you will not hold him responsible for my foolish and impulsive actions."

He frowned. "They say you are not one of the Maniacs anymore. Why did you involve yourself in this?"

That was an unexpected question. Cataclysm stammered a bit as she collected her thoughts. "Lord Qi, if you had a disagreement with Hi Pan I don't think you would turn your back on all of the Clan of the Red Banner. I feel the same. However, this is not gang business. This is not about the Maniacs and the Red Banner. It is about two young people in love."

Qi snorted but seemed satisfied with her answer. He motioned to one of his bodyguards and the man came forward to take the swords from Cataclysm. She hesitated to give them up but only for a split second. Qi was an honest man...she hoped.

The thug took the swords to Qi and he looked them over briefly before waving the man off. "I will accept these blades as repayment for the insult of invading my home, but they will not buy the hand of my daughter."

"What?" demanded Anton loudly, and Cataclysm quickly put a hand on his shoulder to calm him down.

She was angry but carefully kept her voice level as she said firmly, "That was not our agreement, Lord Qi."

He raised his eyebrows. "Agreement? We had no agreement. You made an offer. I have made a counter-offer. If you disagree you may leave with the swords. However that will be an act of war between our clans."

Cataclysm glanced over at Quan, who looked disappointed but not surprised. Cataclysm was curious if that had been her plan all along. She whispered to Anton, "Ask what he wants. Nicely."

Anton said, "What do you want for Quan's hand?"

Lord Qi stared at him for a long time before finally saying, "I have two conditions. These are not negotiable. Accept them or leave and never see my daughter again. The first condition is that you must give up your allegiance to the Maniacs."

"That's ridiculous!" Anton said hotly.

"Shut up!" Cataclysm hissed at him. She was surprised he was being so impulsive since he was usually ice cold. To Lord Qi she said, "May I ask why?"

Again Lord Qi took his time before replying. "It would not benefit me to have my daughter married to a member of a rival gang. And if he stays in the Maniacs, some day we will face each other in battle."

Cataclysm thought about that. "He's right," she mumbled to Anton.

He whirled on her. "That's easy for you to say since you already turned your back on us."

She glared at him. Keeping her voice low she said, "Say that to me again sometime when we aren't surrounded by Red Banners. I dare you. But this isn't about me or even about the gang. How do you think Quan will feel if you have to kill her father someday? This is the only way."

She could see the conflict in his eyes. He said, "Do you have any idea what you are asking?"

Cataclysm looked at him, stunned. "Are you kidding me? I am the _one_ person who knows."

He looked chastened. "Yeah, I guess so."

She turned back to Qi. "Lord Qi, let me clarify. You are asking him to leave the gang, but not to break off contact. You are not asking him to abandon the clan that has become his family, correct?"

Lord Qi mulled that over and then nodded. "Yes, that would be acceptable."

She looked back and Anton. He blew out a breath. "Fine. If I have to choose between Quan and the gang, I choose Quan."

Quan looked relieved. Cataclysm said to Qi, "You said there was a second condition?"

"Yes. I must know he is worthy of my daughter. If he were one of my clan I would already know from his past battles, but since he is an outsider he must prove himself by defeating me in single combat."

Anton looked surprised, but Cataclysm wasn't. Single combat was big among them. Anton turned to her and whispered, "Look, I can handle myself on the street, but Qi's a powerful wizard. I don't think I can beat him."

Cataclysm agreed, though she didn't say so. She said, "Lord Qi, can he choose a champion to fight for him?" Anton looked hopeful but then his face fell when he heard the answer.

"No. If he is not strong enough to defeat me, he cannot protect my daughter."

A new voice broke into the conversation. Quan said, "Father, there is one case where a champion may be chosen."

"Silence!" Lord Qi commanded. "You are here to witness this discussion, not to participate."

"Sorry, father," she said, but she gave Cataclysm a significant look.

Cataclysm's brow furrowed. "What is she talking about?"

Qi waved her off. "It doesn't apply to this situation."

Cataclysm was annoyed but she kept her voice calm. "If we are doing this the Red Banner way, it is only fair I...er, Anton know the rules."

Impatiently, Qi said, "If either party in a challenge in injured after the challenge is accepted but before combat begins, then a champion can be chosen. However if the young man challenges me, we will settle this immediately so there is no chance of that."

Cataclysm was puzzled. That didn't seem helpful. Why would Quan have brought it up? She looked back at Quan and saw the girl hugging herself tightly, eyes down, like she was bracing herself. Cataclysm looked at Anton and then back at her. Quan couldn't be saying what she seemed to be saying.

Slowly Cataclysm said, "Anton, what would you face to be with Quan?"

"Anything," he said instantly. "I'd swim the ocean. I'd fight Grond. I'd..."

"Yeah, okay, I get it." She sighed. "Challenge him."

Anton looked surprised. "You think I can beat him?"

"Only if he has a heart attack. But I have a plan."

"You want to tell me what the plan is?"

"Nope. Better you don't know. But you two will be together." Probably, she added to herself.

Anton shrugged. "I guess there isn't any other way." He raised his voice and said, "Lord Qi, I challenge you to a duel for Quan's hand."

Lord Qi nodded. "I accept the challenge."

Cataclysm slammed a searing blast of flame into Anton's thigh. Surprised by the attack, he collapsed to the ground with a scream. He twisted around to glare at her. "What the _fuck_?"

Cataclysm ignored him. "Lord Qi, Anton is too injured to fight. I will fight in his place."

A stunned silence hung over the room, broken only by Anton's whimpers. Quan was cringing and had her eyes squeezed shut. Lord Qi's mouth was open and he kept looking back and forth between Anton and Cataclysm. After a moment he said, "Do you accept this woman as your champion?"

Anton grated out, "Yes." To Cataclysm he said, "I'm going to fucking kill you when we get out of here."

"Consider it payback for your earlier crack. And I'm about to risk my life so you can get laid. You're welcome."

Lord Qi shook himself back into the moment. "Very well. Let us go out to the practice yard."

Cataclysm was going to help Anton, but two Red Banners came forward to pick him up. They handled him with surprising gentleness. One glanced at Cataclysm and mumbled, "You guys really are all crazy." She took that as a compliment.

The group trooped out through a back door to a weapons training field. In one part were practice dummies, archery targets and racks of wooden practice weapons. In another area were exercise machines and some of those wooden structures martial artists used to toughen their hands and arms. Off to one side was a roped-off platform that was clearly an arena.

Qi and Cataclysm entered the ring. He said, "Do you know the rules?"

She nodded. Keeping any hint of smugness out of her voice, she said, "Iron and Gold explained them to me. No flying. No leaving the ring. Keep spells inside the ring. Battle until someone yields, is unconscious or dies. No breaks. Battle starts at the gong."

Each of them went to one side of the ring. As she did, Cataclysm suddenly realized Qi had an advantage. If he were smart--and she had heard that he was--he would have talked to Iron and Gold to learn about her fighting style. She on the other hand knew nothing of his other than the fact he used electrical magic, like most of the Red Banners.

Cataclysm stretched a bit to loosen her muscles. Qi stood there unmoving, and she wasn't sure if he was meditating, studying her, or just waiting patiently for her to finish. When she was ready she nodded to the man standing next to the gong. Qi did the same. The gong rang and both sprang into action.

Cataclysm wrapped herself in a cloak of flame while Qi went right for an attack. A bolt of lightning crackled towards her and splashed against her fiery shield. She was able to divert most of the energy, but the electric shock still made her muscles tingle. She threw out her arms and launched a cone of flame at him. He dodged aside, surprisingly nimble for his age, but was unable to escape the wide cone. She turned to keep the torrent on him as he moved. He put up a quick defensive spell and then launched another lightning bolt.

She finally had to let the rushing fire die down as it drained her energy, but as she did she saw small flames dancing along his clothing. He ignored the fire, instead casting another spell that surrounded Cataclysm with a tingling cloud of electrical particles. She concentrated, re-establishing her connection to the primal Fire so she could strike again. Another lightning bolt arced towards her and she didn't try to defend. That was a mistake. The cloud somehow magnified the bolt, and she felt her muscles lock as electricity flowed through her and sparks coruscated across her skin.

She struggled to breath even after the electricity was gone. She reached out to the flames on his clothing and pulled the energy into her, and the healing warmth soothed her aching muscles. This time she threw up a defensive shield as he attacked, diverting much of the energy, and when his attack was done she quickly blasted him with bolts of fire. He tried to dodge these and, though they were easier to avoid than the cone, she was able to fire a rapid barrage and he was forced to keep dodging.

They continued to go back and forth, exchanging flame bolt for lightning bolt. Both of them tended to favor attacks over defense, but she realized she had one advantage. She could use the flame to heal herself, but he appeared to have no healing magic. In addition, the more spells she cast the stronger her connection with the elemental Fire became.

He stumbled, obviously tiring. That realization filled her with energy and she again bathed him on a sheet of flame. He tried to counterattack but miscast the spell, and only a weak trickle of electricity reached her. She kept up the pressure on him and he threw up defense spell after defensive spell. At this point it was only a matter of time. She continued to batter him, driving him back into a corner of the arena where she could keep hammering spears of flame into him.

"I yield!" he called out as he fell to one knee. A Red Banner warrior leapt into the ring with a blanket to beat out his burning clothes. Cataclysm walked over to look at him. He had some burns, but nothing that looked too bad. He might not have curative magic but there were healers in the Red Banner who would be able to help him. He opened her eyes to look at her and she reached out a hand. He seemed surprised, but took it and she helped him stand up.

"Honorably fought," he said.

"You too."

He waved off the Red Banner who had helped him and studied her as the man left the ring. When they were alone, Qi said, "For the record, I had planned to let the young man win." Cataclysm was stunned into silence. "The bravery and dedication to Quan it took for him to face me even though he would lose told me he was the right man for my daughter."

Cataclysm looked over at Anton, his face screwed up against the pain. "Kind of wish you'd told me that before." She turned back to him and said suspiciously, "You didn't throw _our_ fight, did you?"

"No. I didn't need to. You took me by surprise. I knew you had some knowledge of magic, but I never expected a Maniac to be so skilled." Sternly he added, "I will not make the same mistake should we meet again."

"I imagine you won't," Cataclysm said. Lord Qi turned to look at his daughter, doting on Anton, and his face clouded. Cataclysm said, "You don't like him, do you?"

"No."

"I'll tell you exactly what I told him. You two have one important thing in common: you both love Quan. The best thing you can do for her is to suck it up and get over it. If you try to drive a wedge between them, it will only hurt her."

Qi glared at Cataclysm. "You are very presumptuous," he said sharply, and then added, "but very wise. I shall consider your words." He gave her another one of his penetrating looks. "It speaks well for the young man's character that he has friends such as you."

"Your daughter could do no better."

"It is too bad so few Maniacs have the honor you do."

Cataclysm bristled at the insult to the gang, but knew getting annoyed wouldn't help. She said, "And I'm glad the Red Banner warriors fight much less well than you do."

Qi looked offended, but then got the joke and gave her the barest hit of a smile. He inclined his head slightly at her and exited the ring.


	15. Visitors from the North

> _MCPD and MARS raided the Westside headquarters of the Black Aces gang today. They arrested a number of the gang members on charges of robbery and kidnapping related to the break in at the High Security Storage Bunker and the abduction of a number of visiting experts in Qularr technology. All hostages were rescued safely. Police seized over a dozen crates of Qularr technology and a number of alien weapons. They also arrested the alleged leader of the Black Aces gang, a man formerly known only as Ludwig._
> 
> _WCOC reporter Julie Morgan has discovered the true identity of this Ludwig. He is actually Buck Murphy, a former member of PRIMUS who had been dishonorably discharged for theft, insubordination and discipline issues. He had been on his way to prison to face charges he had stolen Cyberline serum from PRIMUS facilities for his own use. However his transport was struck during the Qularr invasion and he escaped. It is unknown at this time how he ended up running the Black Aces. It is possible that the Black Aces were able to break into the High Security Storage Bunker because of knowledge Murphy gained while working for PRIMUS.  
>  _

* * *

"The police are looking for you," said Witchcraft.

Cataclysm stiffened and her eyes immediately went to the door. Witchcraft followed her gaze and quickly said, "No, not like that. Well, at least not that I know of. And I don't want to know. I mean that they have been asking me about this new fire-based hero who's been operating in Westside."

Cataclysm scowled. "You know how I feel about that word."

Witchcraft put up a hand. "I'm just repeating what they said. They wanted to know if we knew anything about you because they'd be interested in working with you."

Cataclysm stared at her for a second. "And what exactly did you think my answer would be to that?"

"I figured the word 'no' buried in about ten minutes of profanity."

Cataclysm had to smile at that. "Well, I'm in a good mood today so seven, eight minutes tops."

Witchcraft shrugged, and Cataclysm thought she looked a little disappointed. "All right. I just wanted to pass along the offer. It should be your decision not mine. However there is one matter the MCPD has been asking about that I thought you might be interested in."

Cataclysm's smile faded. She was tempted to reject anything from the cops outright, but she trusted this woman so said, "I'm listening."

"A group of people wanted by Canadian authorities have been seen in Westside. They are known to be involved with a criminal organization in Ontario that primarily does counterfeiting and money laundering but also has their fingers in the drug trade, illegal immigration and a few other things. The concern is that they might be trying to trying to carve out a presence here to create a transport corridor into this country."

"And why should I care about that?" Cataclysm asked impatiently. Again she thought Witchcraft looked a little disappointed but the other woman continued.

"If they are establishing a presence in Westside, that means another gang dividing up the city. That's bad for all of the gangs, not to mention the citizens. Plus they've been seen in or near Maniac territory."

Cataclysm shrugged. "I still don't see the issue. Cop work. Let cops screw it up."

"The Westside precinct is already stretched thin due to the sudden spike in gang activity. Many of the heroes are tied up in," she paused, "other problems in the city." Every now and then Witchcraft got cagey about things going on in Millennium City. Cataclysm used to get annoyed--ok still did get annoyed--but she had to admit she didn't tell the woman everything that was going on with her either. They had become friends of a sort over the weeks they'd been together, but they still differed in some fundamental views on matters such as the role of law enforcement and personal freedoms and the right to crack someone's head open if he looked at you funny. Cataclysm also realized that sometimes the Champions knew about threats that the public didn't.

Witchcraft continued. "The other complication is that these five individuals are all superpowered. The Champions can't help right now. Sapphire and Ironclad are out of the country. Defender is here but tied up on another project. I might have to leave town in a few days. Kinetik is fast but I don't think he can cover the whole city by himself." 

Five supervillains setting up a gang in Westside near Maniac territory. That couldn't be good, but it made her sick to think that she'd be doing police work. She still regretted the way she'd handled Poe. She wished he'd had the decency to die in combat rather than leaving her in the position to call for help.

"Shit," she sighed. She knew what the answer had to be. "Fine. Tell me about them."

Witchcraft looked relieved as she chanted a spell to open her pocket dimension storage. She pulled out a folder and handed it to Cataclysm. "There is more detailed information here. Golden Spoon is a some kind of genetic hybrid with sharp claws. Seven Fingers is a martial artist. Ginger Kid is the son of a human mother and demon father and knows earth magic. Powerbrawl uses special inertial gloves that give him punches strong enough to crack stone. Burner is a fire mage. Their superpowers are relatively weak. Any of them would give a police officer a problem but shouldn't be a threat for you. If you can manage to take them out one at a time you should be fine."

Cataclysm flipped through the folder skimming the information. "You do understand I'm going to handle this my way. The Maniac way." She closed the folder and looked at Witchcraft and said, "I'm not planning to arrest them."

Witchcraft looked dismayed. "What _are_ you planning to do?" she asked slowly.

Cataclysm shook her head. "You've always blinded yourself to what I am. Okay, I admit sometimes I've helped people out when I didn't have to. I've got a few soft spots under this tough exterior. But that's all you see. The softness. You ignore what else I am. What else I've done. What else I'm capable of doing." She snorted. "Your pet hero."

Witchcraft pursed her lips. "And have you ignored what else I am?"

"No. I've always been aware of it." Cataclysm sighed. "And I've always wondered what would happen if we ended up on the opposite side of things." Witchcraft was still watching her warily and Cataclysm finally gave in. "All right, I won't kill them. But I _am_ going to make them regret coming into Maniac territory."

"And just what does that mean?"

Cataclysm held out the folder. "Take this back if you want. But if you want me to handle it, I do it my way."

Witchcraft looked conflicted. "You won't kill them?"

Cataclysm shrugged. "Well, I won't go out of my way to kill them. No promises." Witchcraft looked unsatisfied so Cataclysm grimaced and said, "I'll do my best. That's all I can say."

Witchcraft still seemed unsure but said, "I have faith in you. I think those soft spots in you are bigger than you give them credit for." She looked away. "But remember that anything _you_ do _I'm_ going to have to live with."

* * *

Cataclysm wrinkled her nose as she descended the ladder. Why did so many of these villains end up in the sewers? There were plenty of areas in the city to hide out that didn't literally smell like shit. She also wondered just how much methane gas was down here and how bad an idea it would be to sling fire. Well, she was just looking around for now.

Her footfalls were loud but the flow of water covered the noise. Of course it would cover the noise of other people as well so she kept her eyes sharp. The tunnel was lit by a few trouble lights linked by bright orange extension cords. Someone was living down here and if it wasn't her targets, then maybe they would know where to find them.

She hesitated at the first cross intersection. She peered down each tunnel but none of them offered any clues so she decided to follow the first rule of navigating a maze: keep your right hand to the wall. She turned right and followed that tunnel. It rounded a curve and ended in three big, waterproof doors. One was open and she heard voices. She listened but couldn't make out the words. She could hear a woman and a man, so at least two people. She carefully peered around the corner but saw only a large cardboard box next to a broken down easy chair. The voices were coming from further inside. Maybe she could move in closer.

"What are you doing here?" demanded a man's voice in her ear. Her heart leapt into her throat as she whirled to see a man in a Mohawk wearing a bandoleer of knives standing behind her. This was Seven Fingers, so named because he'd lost three fingers on one hand. Stories as to how he lost the digits ranged from a car accident to being bitten off by a zombie.

"Looking for the bathroom," Cataclysm said while her mind raced.

"Fingers? Is that you?" came a voice from inside.

"Yeah, we got a visitor." He shoved her inside the room.

Cataclysm needed to know how many were in the room before deciding her best next move. Now that she'd lost the element of surprise she was going to be in trouble if she didn't play this out very carefully.

She recognized the two inside the room: Golden Spoon and Burner. She glanced around and saw two other doors leading out. No idea where the others in the gang were.

The three thugs closed on her, sizing her up. She was boxed in now, nowhere to run. Fingers said, "You didn't answer my question. What are you doing here?"

One would be easy. Two she could probably take. Three, well, that was pushing it but one was the fire mage. He wouldn't be much of a problem. It was time to seize the initiative. "This is Maniac territory," she snarled. Technically that wasn't true since the border was about a block east, but they didn't know that. "I wanted to show you what happens when people like you come onto our turf."

The three thugs exchanged a glance. "Told you," Burner said. "Damn Maniacs. Knew they'd do this."

"Too bad," said Golden Spoon. "But maybe we can have some fun with this one."

"Yeah," Fingers said with a predatory grin. "You delivered your message. We have a reply for your boss. We'll carve into your corpse."

"Wait," said Burner. "My turn. You got first whack at the last guy who came down here."

Finger snorted. "Fine. But I hate the smell of burnt flesh." He backed off a step as Burner came around to face Cataclysm.

He reached out to stroke her cheek. "Don't worry baby. This won't hurt a bit." He grinned. "It will hurt a lot. Feel free to scream." He inhaled deeply and breathed out a spear of flame. It splashed into her chest and Cataclysm felt the heat trying to sear her flesh, but to her it felt like nothing more than warm sunlight. She held Burner's eyes as the flame licked over her shoulders, neck and face. After a second he looked confused but kept up the roar of fire coming from his mouth. 

Burner continued to pour flame on her until his breath was gone. The blaze finally petered out and Cataclysm shook her head sadly. "Cute trick. But try it more like this." She blasted him with a powerful fire bolt, knocking him off his feet. She quickly circled around him until all of them were in front of her and then let loose with a cone of flame.

The other two had been stunned by what had just happened but now they moved, diving out of the path of the inferno. "Get in here!" shouted Fingers. "We're under attack. Everyone in here now!" As his bellow echoed down the tunnels, Cataclysm knew she had to act quickly.

With a feral scream, Golden Spoon leapt on her and tore at her skin with the thorny claws on her hands. Cataclysm pulled the fire back and wrapped it around herself. Golden Spoon backed off as she got burned but not before leaving deep gashes on Cataclysm's shoulder and chest. Cataclysm pulled healing from the fire, but it was slow and the other two were already striking.

Burner wasn't a threat. In fact he was a help as she was able to draw power from the fire he sent her way, healing her wounds and redirecting the flames at the others. He was too stupid to see he was helping. She blasted Fingers as he closed but he dodged her nimbly and hammered her with chops and kicks. She dodged or blocked the ones she could but defense was not her strong suit. However the flames around her burned Fingers and he stepped back. She saw Golden Spoon circling around. She didn't want to get between these two.

Cataclysm leapt back and again bathed them with a cone of flame. They tried to move out of the way but this time she tracked Golden Spoon with the blaze. She had no defense and shrieked as the fire burned her. She collapsed, her clothes burning.

Cataclysm grunted and stumbled forward as Fingers kicked her in the back. She whirled around and tried to blast him, but he again avoided her bolts. She sprayed the area with flame and hurt him but he was too quick for her to do much damage. She had to break off to dodge as he threw a knife. However between her and Burner, everything in the room that was flammable was alight. The fire made Cataclysm stronger and she kept up her attacks on Fingers.

Ironically it was Burner who brought him down. A slow learner, he again tried to attack with his flame breath and didn't consider that Fingers was in the way. Fingers didn't know he was in danger until he was in the stream of fire. He whirled on Burner, but that just gave Cataclysm a chance to launch her own attacks. Finger fell and Burner looked horrified.

Any elation Cataclysm felt dissipated when the wall hit her in the face. She fell to the ground, dizzy and tasting blood. She looked up and rolled to the side as another huge chunk of rock smashed down next to her. Then she had to skitter backwards to avoid the metal fist that smashed down onto the floor, shattering the concrete. Cataclysm bathed the room in fire, hoping to drive people to cover, while she regained her feet and looked over the situation. As she had already figured out, Powerbrawl and Ginger Kid had arrived.

She wiped the blood out of her eyes and bathed the two of them in flame. Ginger Kid held his ground as a sheet of stone tore out of the ground and suspended itself between them to block the fire. Powerbrawl took a high flying leap at her, and she stepped aside to avoid his metal fist. But while she dodged the left he brought up the right and pain blossomed in her chest as he connected. She gasped for breath as she blasted him with fire, knocking him away.

Suddenly she felt a buzzing all over her body and her muscles all spasmed painfully. She collapsed to the ground disoriented and her body wouldn't obey her commands. She felt another impact against her back as she fought to regain control, though she didn't know if it was a rock from Ginger Kid or one of Powerbrawl's fists. She managed to turn her head to see the two needles in her upper arm and the wires leading from them to the taser in Burner's hand.

She knew the taser wasn't a threat anymore. It was just one shot and had already done what it was going to do. The same protective spells that guarded her from fire also helped divert electricity so she wasn't as badly stunned as someone else would have been. That's why she was able to clumsily roll to the side as Powerbrawl smashed at her again. But she didn't see the rock that smashed her leg and she cried out as pain shot through her.

Cataclysm had to focus on one of them and Powerbrawl was standing over her, raising his fist for another blow. She rolled onto her back and sprayed him with fire. He hesitated as the fire reached him and that was all the opening she needed. She continued to pour flame into him as she also drew the heat into her injuries. She saw another chunk of rock flying at her and she quickly popped up a defensive spell. She couldn't block such a heavy piece of concrete, but she was able to divert it so it didn't hit her. By the time Powerbrawl went down her muscles were feeling better.

She spewed fire at Ginger Kid, breaking his concentration long enough to let her regain her feet. Even injured and tired, she was still a better mage than he was. It was a foregone conclusion.

Cataclysm turned on Burner, who had gone back to his useless fire attacks after the taser attack. She gave him an evil grin. "You like fire? Then let's party."

She sat down heavily on the ground after she was finished with Burner. She wanted to rest for a few minutes but knew she couldn't stay here. The smoldering fires were filling the place with smoke and it was getting hard to breathe. However before she left she checked on each of the five, both to search them and to check if they were alive. If Witchcraft asked, then Cataclysm could honestly say they'd been alive when she'd left them...in a room in the sewer filling with smoke and packed with run-down furniture that was on fire.

Fingers had a piece of paper on him with an address, a time and today's date. Cataclysm pulled out her phone to check the time. Whatever this was it was still about seven hours away. Maybe she'd go practice healing spells until then.

Cataclysm painfully limped her way out of the sewer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously I made a pretty big change here, making Ludwig a human. The problem is that if he were Qularr, he wouldn't be shipped off to city jail like any other street thug. He'd be brought up on war crimes or interrogated by UNTIL, or whatever the right agency would be. Since he has to escape from jail later, I needed to change his identity. Buck Murphy is not my own creation. He will be escaping from jail later to resurface in Bunker Buster as the villain Howitzer.
> 
> Speaking of jail escapes, WTF do they make the jails out of in this game? Wet cardboard? There is the jail break of the open mission, the jail break where the gang leaders escape, Stronghold (which to be fair is a separate facility), each nemesis you have up to 18 total...are there others I'm forgetting about? I know it's a common trope in superhero fiction, but geez! I tweaked on the story here to get rid of one of them but I plan to use those other jail breaks and it's still dang ridiculous.


	16. A Loft Cause

Cataclysm ached as she walked the streets of Westside. The thing about magical healing is that it was really a stopgap measure, only a bit longer term than the healing patches paramedics used. It got you back in the fight but at some point you had to go rest and let your body actually mend. But not tonight. Tonight she had an appointment. As she passed under a streetlight she looked again at the piece of paper she had pulled off Seven Fingers. She had Google Mapped the area and recognized it. It was an abandoned industrial plant. The place had been empty as long as she'd been on Westside. It was in an area contested by both Maniacs and Black Aces so was considered no man's land to both.

It was nearing midnight, the time listed on the invitation. She had planned to be there early but had fallen asleep after too many beers. Cataclysm had never been good at waiting. She was fine now, but annoyed she hadn't had a chance to watch people arrive.

She kept to the shadows as she neared the place. Not only did she not want whoever was in the plant to see her coming, it would also be bad for Black Aces to see a Maniac in the area. The maze of shipping containers made it easy enough to stay out of sight as she approached the old factory. She used her levitation to help her climb to the top of one of the stacks of containers, propelling herself with her hands rather than fire blasts. It allowed her to move silently and stealthily to a high point that overlooked the area. She lay on her stomach and crawled forward until she could see the place.

Cataclysm looked over the place with binoculars. It didn't take her long to see her first problem. The place was guarded but that wasn't the issue. It was guarded by Maniacs. She watched them for a long time, wondering if they had just shown up for whatever the event was, but it was obvious they were actually standing sentry. Some other people arrived, all in street clothes, and they were greeted and waved into the building by the Maniacs.

Cataclysm was sure what was happening. Zoe was forming an alliance with the Canadian gang. It might seem like a good idea on the surface but Cataclysm knew it would blow up in her face. Zoe never understood concepts like subtlety or keeping a low profile. Cataclysm debated, reluctant to interfere with gang business, but this looked like it might get out of hand. She backed away from the edge and climbed back down to ground level.

Cataclysm stepped out from cover and openly approached the factory. The guards out front didn't react at first--she was just another Maniac. But as she got close enough to recognize, they suddenly straightened up. Hands went to weapons but none were drawn. Cataclysm was careful not to act threatening.

She looked over the group and saw several new faces--had she been gone that long? She recognized a couple of people but nobody she had been close to. She thought about asking them what was going on, but either they wouldn't answer or they would and would get into trouble with Zoe. They stood in awkward silence for a few seconds until one of the guys said, "Private party. Get out of here."

Cataclysm turned to him. "Is Zoe in there?" He didn't answer. "I want to talk to her. I'm going in." The Maniacs shuffled uncertainly at that. Cataclysm sighed. "Did she tell you keep me out?"

"No," he said uncertainly. "Other gangs and cops."

Cataclysm certainly didn't want to start a fight. "I just want to talk to her. No harm, right?"

"I guess not," he said slowly. "Yeah, okay. Make it quick."

"Thanks," she said. She wasn't sure what she would have done if they'd stood in her way.

Inside she followed the sound of music and voices until she came into some kind of large room. It contained a few pieces of rusting machinery but was mostly open. The room was illuminated by a couple dozen metal barrels, filled with trash and burning brightly. Cataclysm hoped there wasn't going to be a fight, but the sight of so much fire made her feel better about a fight should one break out. There were also about thirty people, not Maniacs, hanging around the place drinking and talking.

At one end of the room was a crude stage. On the wall behind was a huge poster of Zoe with the word INSANITY scrawled across it. Zoe was on stage, strutting around like she was a dog in a show. She was dressed differently than Cataclysm had seen her, wearing a long leather coat and black boots, a submachine gun dangling at her side. Her clothing looked new and expensive. Zoe was moving up in the world. Cataclysm shook her head. Zoe always had an ego, but it had barely been kept in check. Until now at least.

Also on stage were a half dozen Maniacs including Rid Len and Pyro. This was the first time Cataclysm had seen her old friend in months and she was overwhelmed by all the emotions she was feeling. Pyro's presence just complicated the situation, and Cataclysm wasn't sure what to do. But there was something else on stage that worried her: a man in a cage. She had a sick feeling she knew who the man was.

Cataclysm hung in the back of the room so the Maniacs wouldn't see her. The people coming in did, but they assumed she was another Maniac and ignored her or greeted her offhandedly. Cataclysm was trying to decide what to do when Zoe stopped strutting around and walked up to the microphone at the front of the stage.

"Is everybody having fun?" she shouted. Everyone whooped in response.

"You're probably all wondering why we've brought you here. Well first, to have a party. It's always the right time for a party!" Everyone cheered again and Zoe glowed in the attention. "But I have more to offer you. You've all come down from Canada at just the right time. Your people and my people have gotten together to make you a once-in-a-lifetime offer. Big things are happening. Big forces are joining together and that means big heroes are going _down_. I know you want to be part of the mayhem! Join the Maniacs! You don't have to be crazy...but it helps!" She threw her head back in a shrieking cackle. The crowd ate it up, shouting and chanting her name.

"I have a special gift to welcome you to our country." She motioned to the cage behind her as the crowd quieted. "The guest of honor at our celebration tonight is a local celebrity: County Prosecutor George Kruger. Give it up everybody!" She started applauding but the crowd booed and threw bottles that shattered against his cage. Kruger cowered in the corner, covering his face.

"Kruger here has put a lot of my friends in jail," she said, and the crowd booed again. "And I'm sure if any of your friends were down here on vacation, he booted them back across the border. Well, here's what we're going to do. We are going use him as a piñata. We are going to hang him from that beam up there," she pointed at a metal structural support, "and then beat him with sticks until he breaks open and his guts pour out!" She cackled again as the crowd cheered and hollered.

Cataclysm felt sick, not over what Zoe had planned for Kruger but what it would do to the Maniacs. She wanted to leave, forget she'd ever seen this, but she couldn't. Zoe was out of control. She had to be stopped. Cataclysm stepped forward into the room until she caught Zoe's eye.

"Well, well, well," Zoe said with false cheeriness. "Look at what we have here. Another special guest has graced us with her presence. Don't let her costume fool you. She may look like one of us," Zoe's voice dropped into a snarl, "but she's not!" She went back to her cheerful delivery. "Poor little firefly. It's such a sad story. You know how it is, you try to raise your kids right and then they start hanging out with the wrong crowd. You know people like," she sneered, "cops and Champions."

The mob booed and started to crowd in on Cataclysm. She was surprised by the Champions crack. Apparently her visits to Witchcraft hadn't been as covert as she had thought. It hardly mattered now. Zoe continued, "I'll tell you what. Before we play piñata, let's play another game." Once again her voice changed to a snarl as she said, "It's called 'Kill The Cape!'"

The pack of thugs roared and descended on Cataclysm. She wasn't too worried. She had looked at them while coming in and none of them seemed to be armed with anything other than pipes, chains and bottles. She drew in the fire from the burning barrels and spewed it out into the crowd. She felt fists and crude weapons pounding at her, but she just whirled and spread flame across the mob as it closed in. A few hung back to fling bottle or bricks, but she hammered them with bolts and they went down too. The whole battle took less than a minute and, though she was bloodied and bruised at the end, she'd had worse before. Hell she'd had worse earlier that same day.

As Cataclysm fumbled for a healing patch, Zoe came down the stairs giving her a sarcastic slow clap. The others stayed up on the stage. Cataclysm had been happy that the Maniacs had stayed out of the battle. She didn't want to fight them but she was afraid she was about to have no choice.

"Bravo, firefly," Zoe said. "You have learned some new tricks. I'm impressed." Zoe reached into her coat and Cataclysm brought her hands up in a ready stance. Zoe stopped her reach and used her other hand to pull open her coat and reveal a pack of cigarettes. Cataclysm nodded at her and relaxed, but only slightly. Zoe pulled out the pack, tapped out a cigarette and put it in her mouth. With a gesture Cataclysm lit it up. Zoe raised her eyebrows as she sucked the cigarette into life. "Lots of new tricks," she observed.

Zoe smoked and watched her. Cataclysm waited. She wasn't sure what she was going to do here. She'd never raised a hand against a Maniac, well not in any serious way anyhow. Zoe said, "You know, firefly, maybe I was rash. Maybe, just maybe, I shouldn't have been so quick to push you out of our little family. It seems that someone like you might go very far in our organization, especially with the exciting changes coming up."

Cataclysm said nothing. Zoe took another drag. "Tell me, firefly, what's it like on the outside? Do you like your new life as a hero? Beating up Purples and Red Banner? Some people even say you were the one who took down Ludwig and Zaretti." Cataclysm didn't bother denying the charge; Zoe would believe whatever she wanted.

"Do the people love you, firefly? Do they cheer you and hold parades? Or do they recoil in fear and run away, even after you've helped them? Do your cop friends smile and pat you on the back and invite you over for weekend barbecues? Or do they watch you suspiciously, hands on the butts of their guns, waiting for you to do something so they can throw you in jail? What do you think they'd do if they knew some of the things I know about you?"

Cataclysm was surprised how much her words stung. She'd lived her life not caring what people thought, or at least that was what she'd believed. But she also remembered how people had feared her when she helped them during the invasion. Among the other Maniacs, she'd thrived on the looks of fear she got from people who walked by. But out there on her own, well, somewhere along the line it had stopped being fun. It just isolated her.

"Come back to us, firefly," Zoe said. "Oh you'll have to learn to obey orders, but there is still a place here for you. By my side. What is waiting for you out there? Who out there cares about you? Certainly not your cape friends." She laughed. "They'd throw you in jail as soon as look at you."

Anger flared in Cataclysm and she whirled on Zoe. "No," she said. "No, they are the only ones who accepted me as I am. Good and bad. You want me to come back, but only as your little dog. By your side? Ha! At your feet you mean."

Zoe studied her, absently crinkling the half-empty cigarette pack she still held in her hand. She turned and started to walk slowly away. Over her shoulder she said in a sickeningly sweet voice, "Why are you here, firefly? If you aren't here to come back to us, are you maybe here to stop us?"

Cataclysm knew why she was there. She didn't want to say it out loud but she had to. "I'm not here to stop the Maniacs. I'm here to stop you."

Zoe had wandered over to one of the machines and was studying it as though it were the most fascinating thing in the world. "Me? Why me?" she asked casually.

"Because you are bad for the gang." Now that she'd admitted it, Cataclysm found her reluctance fading. She wanted get this over with. "Shit like this!" she said, waving at Kruger. "What the fuck do you think the cops are going to do if you kill Kruger?"

Zoe sighed theatrically. "Oh yes I remember. How does the speech go?" She put on a child's voice. "It's bad to kill cops, mommy."

"Yes!" Cataclysm insisted, taking a step forward as the anger rose in her. "You don't kill cops. You beat the shit out of them, fine, but you stop short at killing them. One dead cop just brings a hundred pissed off cops. You don't kill bystanders because that gets the fat politicians off their asses to go after the gangs and seem tough on crime. You kill the gangs. Period. Nobody cares about gang-on-gang violence. They talk about it, but deep down they _want_ us to kill each other. You spread out slowly, killing other gangs, but never killing cops or bystanders. Then, when you are too strong to stop, _then_ you can do what you want. But no, you always have your half-assed grandstand ego plays. Murdering a prosecutor? Every goddamn cop in the county will work round the clock to see you in prison for the rest of your life. That is bad for the Maniacs!"

Zoe turned to her, the mostly-burned cigarette dangling from the corner of her mouth. She pointed at Cataclysm with the pack of cigarettes. "And what are you going to do about it?"

Cataclysm said, "Walk away, Zoe. Step down voluntarily." Zoe laughed at her. Cataclysm shook her head. "Don't do this. I beat Poe. You aren't as strong as he was. You'll lose."

Zoe slipped the pack of cigarettes back into her coat. "Perhaps. But I have one advantage over puny, purple Poe." She grinned evilly and suddenly Cataclysm realized she had put the cigarettes back into the _other_ side of her coat. She spotted the remote control coming out as Zoe said, "I cheat."

Cataclysm threw up a defensive spell as the preset charges of dynamite went off. The concussion knocked her off her feet and left her ears ringing. Zoe started cackling madly as she grabbed her submachine gun and sprayed the area with bullets. Cataclysm crawled behind some machinery, cursing herself for forgetting who she was fighting. Zoe was notorious for booby traps.

Cataclysm took a look at the other Maniacs up on the stage. They were still standing there, uncertain what to do. "Stay out of this!" Cataclysm shouted at them, and then popped up to spray fire where Zoe was. Or at least where she had been. She was nowhere to be seen and Cataclysm ducked down behind cover again.

Cataclysm knew her defensive magic was strongest against elemental spells. It could slow bullets and knives, but a burst from a submachine gun at close range would still kill her. She peered out and then pulled her head back as a hail of bullets peppered the area. But she'd seen where Zoe was.

She reached out and shot fire in Zoe's direction to keep her head down, and then she popped up. Zoe came up to shoot and Cataclysm sent a sheet of flame her way. Zoe ducked back down, unhurt. Cataclysm used the chance to break cover and circle around, trying to get a clear shot.

Zoe was also moving. Cataclysm fired a shot as Zoe darted from one machine to the next but she missed cleanly. She followed Zoe through the maze of manufacturing equipment, firing when she could but mostly trying to stay under cover. Zoe wasn't firing back which made it easier to advance. She caught sight of Zoe past a pair of machines and fired, and this time she heard Zoe cry out. Pressing her attack, Cataclysm charged down the narrow space between the two contraptions. She felt a tug at her ankle and with a sudden burst of insight threw herself back. The spear of rusty metal triggered by the tripwire left a deep gash in her arm rather than impaling her. Zoe popped up and fired and it was only luck that Cataclysm got under cover before a bullet hit her.

The pain in her arm was excruciating and she couldn't concentrate on a healing spell. She pulled out another healing patch, her last, and slapped it against her good arm. The pain killers worked quickly and Cataclysm was on the move again. She was still bleeding badly but now she was able to clear her mind enough to pull warmth from the burning barrels and direct it to the gash. The bleeding stopped, but the wound was still open and tender.

Cataclysm couldn't fight this by Zoe's rules. She might have a hundred traps through the place. She had to change this to a fight on her terms. She stood up and called up all the fire she could, bathing the factory floor in an inferno. There was a lot of metal and concrete in the place, but there was also a fair amount of old grease and oil and just enough flammable material to catch and burn.

Cataclysm caught movement but, instead of sending fire that way, she sent fire to the side. She started herding Zoe towards a corner. Zoe fired bursts now and then, but Cataclysm was far enough away that she trusted her defensive magic to deflect the bullets. She kept the pressure up and soon Zoe had nowhere to go.

Only now did Cataclysm start sending fire towards her. The next time Zoe came up, Cataclysm shot a barrage of tight fire bolts at Zoe's hands. Zoe was surprised by the move and dropped the gun. She reached for it but Cataclysm buried it in flame. Zoe whirled on her with a feral snarl and ran across the intervening space, drawing a knife.

Cataclysm sent a blazing torrent at her but Zoe was maddened and charged through it without slowing. Zoe slashed and stabbed at her and Cataclysm could do nothing but dodge the attacks. Her defense spells slowed the knife but didn't stop it and Zoe scored several slashes on Cataclysm's arms and body. Cataclysm realized she was forgetting one thing. She might be a fire mage, but she had also been a street fighter for five years.

Cataclysm grabbed Zoe by the arms and viciously slammed her forehead into other woman's nose. Zoe pulled away, nose bleeding, but didn't slow down. Cataclysm dodged another knife blow and got in under Zoe's reach to punch her several times in the stomach. Zoe didn't even seem to feel it, and Cataclysm felt the knife leave another slash in her back.

Physically Cataclysm was at a disadvantage. Zoe was a big woman who had six inches and forty pounds on her. But Cataclysm was fast and still had her magic to fall back on. She twisted away from Zoe and blasted her again with fire. When Zoe got close again, Cataclysm punched her but left the flame around her fists as she did.

She pulled energy from the fires around her. As had happened in her other recent battles, the more she burned the stronger she got. Zoe on the other hand was getting weaker. She was still fighting like a wolverine but Cataclysm could tell she was slowing and so started to increase the fury of her own attacks. Pouring all of her anger into her spells, she blasted Zoe over and over. Even after Zoe fell, Cataclysm kept hammering her with blasts of heat.

Finally Cataclysm forced herself to stop. Zoe was lying unmoving on the ground, badly injured or dead. It was over.

Cataclysm turned to the other Maniacs who had watched the battle from the stage. They now eyed her warily. Cataclysm jerked a thumb at the door. "Get out of here," she said.

The other Maniacs looked to Rid Len. He stepped forward and drew his submachine gun. "If you think you're taking over the Maniacs, you're going to have to go through me."

"I'm not trying to take over the Maniacs," she said tiredly.

He scowled. "Nothing's changed," he said. "You still aren't one of us. You abandoned us. And now you attacked one of our own. Stay out of Maniac territory if you know what's good for you." He turned and left, the other Maniacs in tow. Cataclysm sneaked a look at Pyro but the other woman didn't meet her gaze. The pain of her wounds wasn't the worst Cataclysm was feeling right then.

She heard sniggering behind her. Cataclysm turned to see Zoe watching her, still on the floor, one eye open. "So now what?" Zoe asked weakly. "Have you got the guts to kill me?"

"I'm not going to kill you," Cataclysm sighed.

"So you're going to _arrest_ me?" Zoe sneered

Cataclysm opened her mouth to deny it, but stopped. She wasn't going to call the cops. What else was there?

There was still one more issue. "Where's the key?" she asked, nodding at the cage.

"Right front coat pocket," Zoe said.

Cataclysm knelt down next to her, started to reach for the pocket and then hesitated. She looked at Zoe suspiciously and the other woman chuckled. "No more tricks," Zoe said.

That didn't make Cataclysm feel any better, but she gently reached into the pocket and found nothing but a set of keys. Feeling a bit more confident she searched Zoe until she found a cell phone.

"Going to call your cop friends, _hero_?" mocked Zoe. Cataclysm ignored her as she walked over to the cage. She fumbled through the keys until she found the one she needed. Kruger eyed her suspiciously as she opened the door. "Come on," Cataclysm said in irritation. "Look you can stay in there if you want but I don't advise it." He still hesitated. Cataclysm shrugged and tossed him Zoe's phone. "You probably should call for help," she said and turned to leave.

"Thank you," Kruger said.

Cataclysm froze and slowly turned back. "Don't think I did this for you, you little shit. I'd be just as happy to have let them play piñata but the Maniacs would suffer for that." She snorted. "Hell, I should probably be the one thanking you. You're the one who made me what I am."

Kruger looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"No reason you'd remember me. I'm just one of the many victims of your wheels of justice, just one of the bodies you've run over in long career. But I remember you. If you'd shown a shred of decency, a hint of leniency to a kid who'd made a stupid mistake, I never would have met people like her," she jerked her head at Zoe. "And I wouldn't be the fine upstanding citizen I am today." She shook her head. "But what's the point? People like you don't even see people like me. All you see is your career stretching before you, not all the devastation laid out behind you. My hands aren't clean, but I know they are cleaner than yours."

She was too tired to talk anymore. She left him standing there and headed back home.

* * *

Two days later she went to the Champions Building for her latest lesson. Witchcraft was waiting for her and enthusiastically said, "Hi! You're here."

Confused by her effusiveness, Cataclysm said, "Uh, yeah. We had a lesson, right?"

"Well, yes, but I thought you might be mad at me." She gave Cataclysm an earnest look. "I swear I didn't know Zoe Loft was involved with those people from Canada. I wouldn't have asked you to investigate if I had."

Cataclysm frowned and said grudgingly, "I know. I wouldn't be here if I thought any differently."

Witchcraft was relieved. "Good. Look, maybe to avoid future conflicts we should keep you out of Westside. There are other areas of the city that could use your help."

"No," said Cataclysm firmly.

Visibly disappointed, Witchcraft said, "Oh. I guess I understand why you might not want to get involved in the city's problems. Very well. We can simply continue our lessons."

Cataclysm shook her head. "That's not what I meant. I mean I'm not done with Westside." She folded her arms and chewed her lip thoughtfully. "Zoe said, 'Big heroes are going down'. Not gangs. Heroes. This isn't about an alliance. It's about an alliance for something big. Zoe was always after the big score, no matter how much it hurt the Maniacs."

Witchcraft looked concerned. "A score like what?"

"I don't know. You know there's one thing that's bothered me. On the one hand the gangs are all gearing up for something. On the other hand we have," she counted off on her fingers, "Poe, Zaretti, Ludwig and now Zoe all in jail. Doesn't that strike you as odd?"

"I guess I just thought we were making a dent against the gangs but now that you mention it, it does seem a little convenient."

"Why did you send me after the Purple Gang in the first place? I don't mean me, I mean why were you even involved. Let's be honest--Westside gang shit is beneath you."

"Well, I got an anonymous tip. I would have passed it to MCPD but I thought this might be a good opportunity to see how you used your magic in a realistic setting."

"And how did you find out about these new supers in town?"

Witchcraft looked concerned. "Another anonymous tip."

"Zaretti? Ludwig?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. That was MCPD. I could ask..." She trailed off.

"But we both already know what they are going to say."

Witchcraft scratched her chin. "Who could be behind this?"

"Not sure," Cataclysm said with a shrug, "but I see two possibilities. Either it's Hi Pan, the only gang leader left, or we have a new player."

"The Canadian gang?"

"No. They wouldn't have ratted themselves out."

Witchcraft nodded thoughtfully. "Are you saying you are willing to look into this?"

"Willing?" Cataclysm snorted. "I'm not asking permission. I'm not doing this for you or for the cops or for sweet little Suzie down the street. I'm doing this for the Maniacs. Whatever is going on, I want to be sure it's not a threat to them."

"And if it's not a threat to the Maniacs? Will you tell me what you find?"

Cataclysm's brow furrowed. "I guess I'll decide that at the time."

"Oh," Witchcraft said a little sadly. "Well, let's get started with our lesson. Oh, by the way this will be our last meeting for a bit. I need to go down to New Mexico for a couple of weeks. I'm going to show you some things you can work on while I'm gone."


	17. Jailbreak

"We've called in off-duty officers and officers from other precincts," MCPD Chief Surhoff was saying. "We encourage citizens to stay in their homes or places of work and keep off the streets. We have the situation under control but until we can get at the root of this problem we will need to streets to remain as clear as possible."

Cataclysm watched the press conference on TV as she sprawled on the couch. For hours the news had been reporting an outbreak of incidents all over Westside. At first it was a rash of crimes. Burglar alarms went off all over the area and the 911 switchboards were flooded with calls reporting everything from mugging to murder. Later fire alarms and more 911 calls sent fire trucks and ambulances into the city. In most cases nothing was found once emergency crews arrived.

"We are prioritizing the calls as best we can," said Surhoff in response to a reporter's question. "We aren't assuming any call is a false alarm, but we are taking verifiable threats such as calls from other police stations more seriously. I want to assure everyone that every single call is treated like the real thing."

The fire and ambulance calls might have been fake, but the police calls were usually real. In nearly every case the victims reported that the Cult of the Red Banner had been responsible. The few witnesses found at false alarm calls also reported that the Red Banner was behind the hoaxes.

Cataclysm wondered if the cops had figured out what was going on. It seemed obvious to her that all this activity was meant to tie up emergency services in preparation for the real operation. But what was it? She had been watching activity all over Westside, especially Red Banner movements, for two weeks now and this was the first hint she'd found that something big was happening.

Surhoff broke off in the middle of a response as another cop came up and whispered in his ear. The chief kept his expression carefully neutral as he said, "I'm sorry I have to cut this short," and quickly walked back into the police station through a storm of reporters' questions.

The television station went back to the news desk where Rob Mahogany and Victoria Crownstone recapped the details of the day for viewers just tuning in. Cataclysm got up to get another beer, half listening to the TV as she mulled over the facts. Unfortunately there weren't many. Until the Red Banner made their move, all she could do is wait.

She didn't have to wait long.

About a half hour after Surhoff cut the press conference short, WCOC reported they were getting calls that some kind of riot had broken out at the Westside jail.

"According to guards who escaped from inside the facility," Mahogany intoned, "several prisoners were suddenly out of handcuffs and attacked the guards by surprise. One said that he believed all the prisoners who were mysteriously freed were part of the Red Banner gang. These inmates overpowered enough of the guards that they were able to free the other prisoners. MCPD forces have the jail surrounded, but the prisoners seem to have full run of the jail now. Several guards are missing. Attempts to negotiate with the rioters have been unsuccessful so far."

Mahogany continued to talk but the TV was broadcasting to an empty room.

Cataclysm rocketed through the sky headed towards the jail. This had to be it. She felt it in her gut. She still wasn't sure what Hi Pan's plan was but she knew there was one person she didn't want to get out of prison. Cataclysm would kill her if she had to.

Cataclysm flew over the facility, surveying the situation. The cops had barricaded the streets for at least a block around the place. There were a few inmates in the yard battling with police. They wouldn't last long. The cops seemed to have the outside secure. They didn't look like they planned to assault the place, though she didn't know whether that was due to lack of manpower or a desire to negotiate.

She wasn't going to be so timid. She landed in front of the main entrance in a cloud of flame. She blew open the doors and strode in. A megaphone from the parking lot announced, "You there, going into the prison. Stand down. If you wish to help secure the area please report to Lieutenant Tigges. Hey, get back out here!"

Cataclysm ignored them. Three big guys in prisoner uniforms were blocking the hallway in front of her. "What the fuck do you want?" one demanded.

She didn't even bother slowing down. She just blasted them and headed for the stairs. There were about a dozen other prisoners nearby and, though they eyed her warily, they didn't move to stop her.

Cataclysm knew the layout of the place. It's not like this was her first time here, though she wasn't use to having such freedom to wander. She exited the stairway on the third floor, the women's level. The guard station was empty. The door to the main ward was propped open and many of the female inmates were partying inside. Nobody seemed all that intent on escape or anything else other than tearing up the place. She saw no guards, though they might be locked in the cells as insurance against a raid.

The ward was an open residential block, a result of prison overcrowding. There were cells along the walls but most prisoners lived in one of the cubicles laid out in the main room, separated from other prisoners by nothing more than half-height walls that gave no privacy at all.

The inmates seemed a little surprised by her lack of jail garb but a Maniac was welcome here. She ignored them as she scanned the faces looking for Zoe's. Suddenly a voice called out, "Firefly, you came to see me!"

Cataclysm turned to find the speaker. She wouldn't have recognized Zoe, having never seen her without her makeup and in drab prison dress. Zoe was pushing through the crowd towards here. "What brings you here? Somehow I think you aren't here to beg my forgiveness for your terrible rudeness at our last meeting."

"I'm not going to let you leave," Cataclysm said firmly.

Zoe shrieked her mad laugh. She turned to the rest of the crowd and clapped her hands to get their attention. "Girls! Girls! Listen up. It seems this _hero_ has come to stop us." The other inmates stopped their celebrations and the mood quickly turned grim.

Cataclysm kept her eyes locked on Zoe. "No. I don't care about the rest of them. They can come or go, tear up the place, or kill each other for all I care. I'm here for you. I'm not going to let you go out and destroy the Maniacs. You've done enough damage already."

Zoe turned back to her. "And you really think you have a chance of stopping me?" she asked sweetly. "I have friends now."

Cataclysm wasn't worried about the other inmates. Most of them were probably in on misdemeanors or drug charges. This wasn't like a gang confrontation. When the fire started flying, they'd bolt. She snorted at Zoe, "They don't scare me."

She heard the door from the stairs open and close. Zoe looked over Cataclysm's shoulder and looked smug. "Why, here are my friends now."

Cataclysm heard several sets of footsteps behind her and a prickling started up her spine. The other inmates looked at the newcomers and backed away. Zoe wasn't armed so Cataclysm felt safe turning to see who had come in.

It was the other gang leaders: Hi Pan, Zaretti, Poe and Ludwig. Hi Pan was flanked by Iron and Gold. Cataclysm started figuring the odds and they didn't look good. The three inmates weren't armed, but Poe had his magic and Zaretti was a big guy and could do plenty of damage with his fists alone. Ludwig she didn't know about. And, of course, Hi Pan and his bodyguards were fully armed and ready.

"Get me out of here now, Hi Pan!" Zoe demanded shrilly, walking over to join the group.

Hi Pan said smoothly, "I promise you will all be safely moved from here. I send you now to the meeting place my agents mentioned earlier." Cataclysm struck a ready stance as Hi Pan started a spell but she recognized it as a transport spell. Runic circles appeared at the feet of each of the four other gang leaders and they faded from view. Hi Pan glared at Cataclysm and said, "Gold! Iron! Take care of this," he paused to sneer, "hero." He cast the transport spell again and gated away.

Iron and Gold had already drawn the Blood Swords and were advancing on her, each moving to one side. She had fought them already and knew their styles. Iron was big and slow, easy to hit but he could take an enormous punishment. Gold was fast and agile, dodging blows and striking from out of nowhere. Separately they were a challenge. Together they might just be unbeatable.

Then again, she was more prepared for them. After the fight with them and the battle with Zoe, Cataclysm had added a few details to her outfit. Scarred plates of metal adorned her forearms and shins. She had spiked leather pads along her thighs and she was wearing heavier boots. These protections wouldn't stop bullets, but they might turn a blade.

Cataclysm sent a horizontal sheet of roaring flame towards Gold as the other woman charged towards her, hoping the wide coverage would be hard to dodge. Gold dropped to her knees, leaned back under the fire and slid along the floor, swinging her blade at Cataclysm's legs. Cataclysm stepped aside and caught only a light blow that didn't penetrate her boot. She kicked out at Gold's face but the woman evaded the attack and struck again. Cataclysm backed away and then whirled as she heard Iron thundering up behind her. She caught the blow on her forearm and, although the metal plate turned the blade, the force of the strike left her arm numb

As she predicted, the inmates had scattered once the battle began. Even the tough ones saw no reason to interfere in what was obviously a personal battle. Cataclysm tried the tactic that had worked so well before and sprayed the room with fire. The prisoner cubicles had plenty of flammable materials so soon the whole room was ablaze. Cataclysm drew in the flame and blasted it out, this time trying to hit Iron. Rather than dodging it as Gold had, he just charged through it and again Cataclysm brought up an arm to block the blade. A sudden movement on the edge her vision made her dodge, but she still caught Gold's blade along the edge of her thigh. The blade was so sharp she didn't feel the injury at first, but it didn't take long for the open wound to nag at her.

She drew the warmth into the wound as she backed off for better position. Unfortunately the fires triggered the jail's sprinkler system. Water rained down on them as a piercing bell sounded throughout the level. Cataclysm continued to send fire through the downpour and her spells were hot enough that they burned through the water unaffected. However the sprinklers did douse the burning beds and that took away one of her advantages.

Cataclysm knew she had to focus on one so decided to go after Iron. He was a brick wall, but that just made him easier to hit. Cataclysm blasted him and nearly every shot hit, but it never slowed him down. She had to dodge or block his massive two-handed strikes and her arms ached from blocking the heavy blows. Meanwhile Gold danced around them, striking suddenly when Cataclysm least expected it. Between her leather, her spells and her own agility she was able to keep any severe blows from landing, but it wasn't long before she had a dozen cuts over her body. Her healing magic was struggling to keep up.

In the end she had to admit it was luck more than skill that turned the battle. The sprinklers continued to pour water down on the battle. Iron slipped in a puddle and that gave Cataclysm a second to step back and blast him with a cone of fire. Just as she launched the spell, Gold came in from the side to strike. The blast caught both of them. Iron pushed through the inferno but Gold was badly hurt. Cataclysm followed up, slamming the woman with spells several times before Gold finally went down.

Seeing his sister fall sent Iron into a rage. He made a flying leap at Cataclysm, who sidestepped the blow by inches. She continued to hammer him with spells while blocking or avoiding his blows as best she could. Without Gold flitting around them, Cataclysm was able to focus her efforts on him alone. He was strong but her magic was stronger. On top of that, she was pissed that Zoe had gotten away and directed all her anger at him. She'd found before that her rage made the fire magic stronger.

Iron hit the ground with a thud that shook the floor. Cataclysm stood there in the deluge from the sprinklers, dripping, aching, panting. It had all been for nothing. Zoe still got away. She looked around to see the inmates watching her from the guard room and the cells, backed against the walls to get away from the falling water. They didn't seem hostile but were studying her carefully.

She looked down at Iron and Gold. They were both breathing. The cops might get them. They might wake up and get away. Cataclysm didn't care. They weren't her problem. She spotted the Blood Swords. She had no use for them, but she'd won them--again--fair and square. She picked them up and headed towards the stairs.


	18. Party Crasher

Cataclysm cast her levitation spell and then climbed hand over hand up the side of the building to the steel ventilation louvers. She didn't try to peer through them since they pointed up and she'd just see the ceiling. She hovered to the side listening to the voices inside and hoping nobody would come around and wonder why she was floating next to the vent. She had come by earlier in the day and blasted any lights in the area so she was in deep shadow now that night had fallen. She'd probably be well hidden unless someone got close.

Tony Madness had called and told her to be here. "I'm still not sure how I feel about the shit you've done," he had admitted, "but something is going down. Something bad. I feel it in my gut. Zoe's even crazier than before and I just don't know what she's gotten us into. I can't do anything about it but maybe you can."

She heard Hi Pan calling everyone to order. It sounded like there were at least a hundred people in there and she'd seen people from all the Westside gangs going in. When everyone had quieted down, Hi Pan began.

"Tonight I and the other gang leaders stand here together to tell you of changes coming to Westside. We are entering a new age, an age where the gangs will run Westside and soon all of Millenium City. But we can't do that unless we all stand together. Too long have we been at each other's throats like a pack of feral dogs. The late Qularr attack has weakened the MCPD. Now is the time to unite and claim what should be ours!" An anemic cheer went up from the gangs, she suspected mostly from the Red Banners. "I rescued the other leaders from their imprisonment to seal our new alliance. In a week the full moon will rise and that will be our time. We will come together to bring forth a powerful ally that will make our army invincible. MCPD, MARS, PRIMUS, even the Champions won't be able to stand against us!" Another cheer, louder than the last, sounded.

The celebration was interrupted by an explosion and thumping footsteps. "Surrender, villains!" came a familiar voice.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Cataclysm whispered to herself.

She heard a voice shout, "It's Defender! You set us up, you rats."

"No!" yelled Hi Pan frantically, and then he muttered something in Mandarin. More loudly he said, "Now is not the time to fight. Run away and we will gather again on the night of the ritual!" She heard him start a spell and recognized the same transport spell he'd used in the jail.

She heard Defender's weapons firing and some return fire from the gangs, but mostly she heard running feet. She lowered herself to the ground and peered around the corner. Gang members were pouring out of the building and scattering into the maze of shipping containers around the warehouse. The sound of fighting inside died down and Defender came running out to look for stragglers. When he saw none she heard him calling for MCPD backup.

Disgusted, she faded into the darkness hoping nobody had seen her. She found a spot about a hundred yards away where she could watch the warehouse. It didn't take long for the cops to arrive. Defender spoke with them for a minute and then they went inside to gather up the gang members who hadn't been lucky enough to escape. Defender ignited his jet boots and streaked into the sky.

Cataclysm rocketed after him. She was boiling with anger and was tempted to blast him to get his attention, but knew that would probably be a mistake. She settled for speeding up until she got past him and then waving him down onto a nearby roof.

After they landed Defender gave her a broad smile, "Good evening, Cata-" He broke off as Cataclysm stomped forward and shoved him.

"You idiot!" she roared at him. "What the fuck was that? Hi Pan was just about to reveal his whole plan and you have to show up like some goddamn cowboy and chase everyone off. For what? You grabbed a handful of nobodies and now we don't know what the gangs are up to."

Defender was taken aback. "I didn't realize you were here! You never reported to me you were looking into this!"

"Reported? I don't work for you, tin man. What the fuck are you even doing here? Don't you have some mad scientist or giant meteor or army of demons to stop? Why are you in Westside?"

"I was flying over the area on the way to meet with Crusader and spotted many gang members converging on this warehouse! I knew they would be up to no good so I decided to intervene!"

"Well don't! I'm taking care of it. You not only ruined this source of information, but you just burned me with one of my contacts. Stay the fuck out of Westside from now on. Next time you interfere, we are going to have a problem. Got it?"

Defender frowned. "Are you sure you can handle it? This gang meeting bodes ill for the future!" Cataclysm rolled her eyes. Who talked like that? Defender continued, "If the Westside gangs start working together, it could spell real trouble for the MCPD! They fled easily enough today, though! They can easily be defeated!"

Cataclysm shook her head. "God, you don't even understand why they bolted," she said in disgust. He shook his head. "Because Hi Pan is a circle mage." Defender cocked his head in puzzlement. Cataclysm explained, "People like me and Witchcraft, we can cast magic spontaneously. Hi Pan can to a degree, but the magic he has mastered is more ritualized. He needs time to set up magical circles, sigils of power and so on. Without those he is weak. But with them, he is one of the most powerful mages in the city, Witchcraft included." She had taken the time to research him after the jailbreak, wondering why he had run off then rather than crushing her.

Defender studied her. "It sounds like you've done your homework!" he said. "Very well! I shall leave this matter to you, though I am willing to fight by your side should you need me!"

"I won't," she said firmly.

Defender saluted her and took to the air. "What a prick," she sighed to herself. She pulled out her phone and dialed Tony. She'd say she had nothing to do with the raid and he wouldn't believe her. Defender might have just burned her last bridge with the Maniacs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of the shortest chapters in the fic, but the next is one of the longest so it balances out.
> 
> That "circle mage" stuff is my own head cannon. It gave a reason for Hi Pan to flee here and in the jail, and it will be important later.


	19. Westside Intrigue Culmination

Unknown to many outside the clan, the Cult of the Red Banner had a massive temple that occupied the entire top floor of the Shandor Building in Westside. Around the edges of the room, great statues stared down and arcane symbols decorated the walls and floor. Rows of benches faced a raised area at the far end of the room where normally there was a ceremonial altar. The altar was gone now, removed to make room for a summoning pentagram drawn onto the floor. A roof-like structure of wood and bamboo etched with mystical writing hung from the ceiling over the pentagram, though it was unclear to onlookers if it was part of the ritual or simply decorative.

Tonight the temple was full, not just with Red Banner but also with Purple Gang, Maniacs, Black Aces and Cobra Lords. Each gang had sent a contingent of fifty representatives, including their leaders, to the meeting. Guns were prohibited at the event but knives, clubs and other weapons were widespread through the crowd. Each gang clustered with their own, warily watching the other groups for any sign of betrayal. Tensions were high but so were expectations. Tonight, the leaders promised, would spell the end of police control of Westside.

"I still don't understand what we're doing here," said Ludwig. He and the other gang leaders were each standing at one of the points of the pentagram. "I'm no wizard or nothing."

"I will perform the summoning spell myself," Hi Pan assured him. "The rest of you are here to secure the other points of the pentagram, but you simply need to be present. When the spell is complete we five will control the Death Dragon."

"So why is your circle different than ours?" Ludwig asked suspiciously. Each of them stood in circle of magical symbols, but Hi Pan's was noticeably more intricate.

"Since I am directing the magic most of the runes must be around me so my spells will be transmitted through the other nodes into the portal," Hi Pan said smoothly. 

"Is that right, Poe?" Zaretti asked.

"I guess," Poe said uncertainly. "I don't do summoning magic. Although..." He hesitate, eyeing Hi Pan's runes. "Some of those symbols look like some kind of protective-"

"Who cares?" screeched Zoe. "Let's get on with this and lay waste to the city!"

"The lady is correct," said Hi Pan. "The longer we delay, the greater the chance we will be interrupted. I shall begin the incantations now. Do not be alarmed as you feel the energies move through you."

Hi Pan raised the ornate staff he carried and began speaking words that seemed to burn in the air. They were syllables that seemed like nothing a human mouth should be able to form. As he spoke, patterns of light in the air, sketched by the tip of his staff. The runes at his feet began to glow and the radiance quickly spread along the lines of the pentagram until they reached the other points. The other gang leaders watched with varying degrees of suspicion and wonder as swirling energies rose to surround them.

Zoe shook her head to clear it and struggled to keep her feet. "What is happening, Hi Pan?" she demanded. The wizard ignored her and continued the ritual.

"He's draining our life energies to power the spell," Poe exclaimed. "Hi Pan, stop!" Hi Pan simply redoubled his efforts, shouting the words of the spell as a shimmering orb appeared in the middle of the pentagram, expanding until it was about twenty feet across. Poe quickly began chanting his own incantation and the wall of light around him splintered with an audible crack. "Let me outta here!" he cried. Poe cast another spell and was consumed in a cloud of darkness. When the shadows faded, his pentagram node was empty.

Hi Pan struggled to maintain the spell as the circle was broken. It was too late to stop, even with Poe's departure. He called, "Come forth, Great Dragon! I summon thee!"

From out of the orb of light came a shape. At first it was hard to see due to the dazzling brightness of the portal, but soon it resolved itself into a sinuous reptilian shape. It's body long and slender like a snake's but it walked on four legs. It opened its mouth and a massive roar echoed through the massive temple. Hi Pan laughed maniacally, saying "At last, my Red Banner will control all of Westside!"

"Just a freakin' minute," Zaretti said, swaying as his energy was drained. "Did I just hear you say the Red Banner's gonna control Westside?"

"Fool!" Hi Pan sneered. "My Red Banner now has the power and the means to control all of Westside! Our plans required the rest of you only to power the summoning spells and now your parts are done." Zaretti, Zoe and Ludwig all collapsed at that moment.

Hi Pan turned to the stunned crowd of gang members before him. "Bow now to me, or suffer the same fate as your former masters." The dragon belched a cone of flame over their heads for emphasis. The crowd hesitated and then, a few at a time, all fell to their knees and started bowing to the old man before them. Hi Pan gloated as he looked out over the throng before him. Here were the strongest of each gang. With them under his rule, the others would swear loyalty to him as well. Nothing would stop him from seizing all of Westside.

He frowned as his eyes caught a figure towards the back of the temple. He pointed. "You there! Bow down to me now or be destroyed!"

"Not really the bow down type," Cataclysm said sardonically as she stepped forward. "Zoe could have told you that if you hadn't killed her."

Hi Pan snorted. "She isn't dead, just weakened. They will serve as my lieutenants or die in the belly of the Death Dragon." He peered at Cataclysm. "Ah, I recognize you now. You have been a great help to me, whether you know it or not. I will grant you mercy and give you one last chance. Join me or die!"

"Yeah, uh, no," she said. "I think I'll just stop you instead."

"Stop me?" he laughed. "I know you have some arcane abilities, but you really think you are powerful enough to stop me and my dragon and my army?" He gestured expansively. The gangs had stopped bowing and were watching the exchange carefully.

"I'm not afraid of you or your little dog," she shrugged. "As for your army, is that what you think this is? Armies aren't about strength or numbers. They are about loyalty. You've already shown you are a bad leader. You ran from Defender, leaving many gang members to end up in jail. You ran from me, and Gold and Iron suffered for it. The other gang leaders were grateful you rescued them from prison, but did they realize the information you gave to the cops put them there in the first place?" That had been a stab in the dark, but from Hi Pan's reaction it had been dead on. "And you just sacrificed your new allies for your own personal gain."

Cataclysm cocked her head. "You know what everyone in this room is thinking right now? They are thinking that when the fight breaks out, it's really between you and me. Nobody's going to be paying attention to them. And there is a door right behind me that leads to freedom." And if they weren't thinking that before, they certainly would be now. "Oh a few people will stay and fight out of misguided allegiance, cowardice or plain stupidity. But the rest of them are going to run."

"You're wrong," said a voice from among the Maniacs. Cataclysm turned to see a figure getting to her feet. Her face was hidden by a scarecrow mask. A dirty overcoat hung open to reveal a plaid shirt and torn jeans. The woman drew her axe from its sheath as she crossed to room to stand before Cataclysm. Cataclysm stood at the ready, hoping she wasn't about to have to fight her friend. Pyro held her gaze for a second and then moved to take up a position next to her. She turned to Hi Pan and said, "Some of us will stand with her."

Cataclysm was stunned as she stared at Pyro. Pyro didn't return her look but instead turned to the other Maniacs. "Well, what are you pussies waiting for?" she yelled. "You want to take orders from this asshole?"

The other Maniacs looked at each other uncertainly. Then Tony Madness stood, drew a machete and joined them. A second later, Rid Len hefted his big hammer and went to stand with them. Once he came over, the other Maniacs quickly joined them. Cataclysm was nearly in tears and it was all she could do to maintain her scowl for Hi Pan's benefit.

"Love you guys," she mumbled.

"God, you're such a girl sometimes," Pyro mumbled back.

Cataclysm was trying to compose herself before taunting Hi Pan some more when she became aware of a whispered argument. She looked over to see two of the Cobra Lords shoving and glaring at each other. One of them turned and walked towards the Maniacs and just over half the Cobra Lords came with him. As they neared Cataclysm caught the eye of one of the thugs and nodded gratefully.

"Fuck off," he sneered. "We aren't doing this for you." He raised his voice and turned back to the Cobra Lords who had stayed behind. "Some of us are loyal to Mr. Zaretti," he said for their benefit.

Cataclysm eyed the other gangs. The Purples and the Aces didn't look like they were ready to join, but most of them were eyeing the door. She looked over the Red Banner gang and spotted Lord Qi. It was a longshot...

"Lord Qi," she called out. "Hi Pan doesn't deserve your loyalty. Betraying his allies? Attacking without warning? What's next, poisoning people in their sleep? He has shown he has no honor."

Lord Qi looked conflicted but said, "Perhaps not, but I do. For today he leads us and I will not betray him. Whether he continues to lead us tomorrow is a separate matter, and an internal one."

She nodded, disappointed. "You're a better man than he deserves," she said.

Qi inclined his head respectfully.

Cataclysm turned back to Hi Pan, who had become purple-faced with rage as he watched this exchange. "What do you think of your army now, Bedpan?"

Hi Pan raised his arm to point a shaking finger at Cataclysm. "Dragon, kill her. Kill them all!" He shrieked, "KILL EVERYBODY!"

"Keep the other gangs off me," she said to the Maniacs and then she shot into the air with a boom. She rocketed across the temple to blast the dragon and Hi Pan with flame, pouring everything she could into the spell. The dragon breathed fire at her but she directed it around her and remained unharmed. She was not so lucky with Hi Pan. He fired a bolt of electricity from his staff, which hit her squarely. Her muscles locked, much as they had when she had been hit with the taser a few nights before. Her concentration broke and the levitation spell faded. She fell heavily and painfully to the ground. She knew that move had been reckless but it had accomplished what she wanted--Hi Pan and the dragon turned to attack her rather than the gangs.

She was aware of the bulk of the dragon nearing so she forced herself to her feet. It bathed her in fire again but, as before, the flames left her unharmed. "Stop breathing on her, you fool animal," she heard Hi Pan shout. "Crush her!" The dragon charged at her and the floor shook under its weight. Cataclysm shot into the air to avoid its snapping teeth. It was big enough that she thought it could probably bite her in half if it got a good grip. She blasted it with flame but, just as her command of fiery forces made her immune to the heat, so did its own abilities protect it from her powers. Unfortunately she had no other attacks useful against a creature this size, while it had claws and teeth that could easily tear her to shreds.

Cataclysm threw up a defensive shield to absorb Hi Pan's attack but some of the electricity still reached her. It wasn't enough to paralyze her muscles again, although she certainly felt it. She blasted Hi Pan with spell after spell but they simply stopped at the shimmering field of force put up by his magical circles. She flitted around, dodging his lightning bolts and the dragon's clumsy swipes, and continued to pepper him with spells but it was no use. His power circle was just too strong. She studied its structure and she didn't see a flaw in it.

So she was facing two powerful opponents she couldn't touch, but they could both hurt her. This was not going quite like she had hoped. If she fled, then Hi Pan would slaughter the Maniacs as punishment for helping her. What else could she do?

She kept up the attacks on both Hi Pan and the Death Dragon, hoping to hold their attention rather than believing she could hurt them. All of her spells were based around fire magic. Well not all of them. She ran through the list of other spells Witchcraft had taught her: healing, divination, ritual circles, protection, and more. Cataclysm looked around the battlefield hoping to see something she could use to her advantage. Could she blast a heavy statue and cause it to fall on the dragon? They looked too solid. If she started a large fire it would hurt the gang members before it hurt Hi Pan, if it hurt him at all, and it wouldn't touch the dragon. What else was there?

Her eyes fell on the portal, still open and holding the Death Dragon in this dimension, and there she saw the small imperfection. It was because of Poe. He had fled, breaking the he circle and leaving a tear in the fabric of the portal. Would it be enough?

It certainly wouldn't be if Hi Pan saw what she was doing, but she already had an idea regarding that. She directed her attacks to the chains holding the wood and bamboo structure from the ceiling. The attachments weren't strong, since the assembly wasn't that heavy, so it was easy to blast them free. She blasted the ones farthest from Hi Pan, causing one side of the construction to tear free from the ceiling and swing towards the ground. It smashed into the tile, still suspended from the ceiling from the other edge. It served as a wall, blocking Hi Pan from seeing the portal.

"You think hiding from me will save you?" he taunted. "My power cannot be stopped so easily." He blasted the structure, but lightning didn't have much of an effect on wood and cloth. Still, she couldn't take the chance he would figure out what she was doing. She kept flying around, attacking the dragon and deliberately letting her flight path take her into Hi Pan's view now and then. He took pot shots at her, and a few connected, but she kept up her plan. As she pelted the dragon with spells from one hand, the other cast the unbinding ritual that worked its way into the cracks created by Kevin Poe's absence.

She managed to free up two of the other binding points before Hi Pan got wise. "What are you doing?" he demanded. "The portal! Dragon, stop her from destroying the portal."

No longer needing to hide her actions, Cataclysm put all her concentration into unraveling the next anchor point. She was focusing so closely on that she didn't notice when the dragon leapt at her and swatted her out of the air with a claw. She slammed into a wall and fell to the ground. Her head was ringing. She tried to get up on all fours and then fell back down as pain lanced through her left arm. She reflexively grabbed the sore spot and felt the bone move in a way bones shouldn't, accompanied by another jolt of pain. Cradling her arm she got up, dodging the dragon's teeth as it snapped at her. She resumed the spell and managed to unbind the next point, leaving only one.

Cataclysm fell helplessly as electricity surged through her and she lost control of her muscles. She rolled away, ignoring the pain shooting through her arm, as the dragon attacked. She got up and saw that Hi Pan had run around from behind the fallen wooden structure to attack her directly. She put up a defensive spell that wouldn't last long and feverishly set about unbinding the final portal anchor. Hi Pan tried to repair the damage she was doing, but it was like trying to sew up clothing as it tore apart. He was too late.

The blazing ball of the portal crackled and hummed as it started to collapse. The dragon was pulled towards the collapsing gateway, struggling futilely against the forces dragging it back to its own dimension. "Stop, stop!" Hi Pan screamed, but there was nothing either he or the dragon could do. The massive beast let out one last roar as it was pulled into the blinding light, and then the light fell in on itself and disappeared.

Hi Pan whirled on her, eyes blazing. "I shall destroy you for that, fool!"

Cataclysm stood tall, trying to ignore her aching arm. "Look down," she said smugly.

Suspiciously Hi Pan looked at the floor and then, seeing nothing, back at her. It took him a second but then his eyes widened, he looked down again, and then his head snapped over to look towards his power circles, which he had abandoned to get close to the portal and were now a good thirty feet away. He sprinted towards them but Cataclysm sent a stream of fire towards the dangling wooden construction near them. Hi Pan shied back as the dry materials blazed up into an inferno.

He turned back to her. "No matter," he sneered. "The Dragon Staff is strong enough to destroy you." He sent a bolt of lighting at her, which she deflected. She sent a bolt of flame at him, and he did the same. They sparred in this manner, fire versus electricity, landing occasional hits but neither getting much of an advantage. Hi Pan might have been satisfied to continue, but Cataclysm was painfully aware of the gang warfare throughout the rest of the temple. She had to end this fight quickly.

She sent a cone of fire at him, mostly to distract and blind him rather than necessarily to hurt him, and charged towards him. She crashed into him, hoping to knock him down, but he agilely retained his feet. She sent an elbow towards his face and then a spiked boot tip towards his shin, but both he dodged with a smug expression. It was clear he hadn't been neglecting his martial arts training while studying magic. He brought the Dragon Staff around in an excruciating blow to her broken arm, and she screamed and fell to her knees.

Rather than cowing her, the searing pain brought on an unreasoning anger. He brought the staff down for another blow but, still kneeling, Cataclysm grabbed the weapon as she bared her teeth at him. She tried to tear it from his grasp but he said haughtily, "The Dragon Staff can never be taken from me against my will." He shifted his weight and kicked her on the arm, sending another blast of pain and fury through her.

Instinctively she directed her anger into a fire spell, sending a powerful blast of flame all along the staff with the hope of burning his hands and making him let go. He responded with his own spell, and now arcs of electricity and sheets of fire danced across the surface of the Dragon Staff. She intensified her spell and so did he. The power built as the two of them glared at each other.

Cataclysm was thrown onto her back as the staff burst apart with a bang. She looked up to see Hi Pan still standing, holding a charred piece of wood in his hand. As he stared open-mouthed at it, the staff crumbled. In disbelief, he screamed, "What have you done? That was a two-thousand-year-old magical artifact."

Climbing to her feet she snarled, "And now it's a two-thousand-year-old pile of ashes. You're next." She launched a one-handed spear of flame, her left arm hanging uselessly by her side. He tried to defend but, shaken by the loss of his greatest weapon, he reacted slowly. He launched some feeble spells at her and she swatted them aside as she continued advancing on him. She blasted him until he finally went down, very near to the bodies of the other gang leaders.

Cataclysm could barely think over the pain in her arm. The dragon had slashed her in a few places and her nose was bleeding from one of the many impacts she'd taken, though she didn't remember which one. However she was acutely aware of the sound of fighting coming from behind her. She needed to stop this now.

Knowing she'd need both hands for this spell, she gritted her teeth as she raised both arms. Pain screamed from her broken arm but she was able to manage the gestures. A fiery explosion detonated over the heads of the battling gangs, raining fire down upon them. It wasn't a spell designed to do damage, but the fiery display got everyone's attention and there was a pause in the fighting as the sound of the blast resonated through the temple.

"Enough!" Cataclysm bellowed into the fading echoes of the explosion. "I am declaring a truce throughout Westside until dawn tomorrow. This fight is over. Go home!"

She looked over the battlefield. It looked like she had been right--most people had fled. But there were still dozens of people here from all the gangs, including a number of bodies either dead or too hurt to move. The combatants eyed each other and nobody moved. "I mean it," she snarled as flames licked up and down her arm. "The next one of you who raises a weapon is going to answer to me. You can go back to your piddly-ass gang squabbling tomorrow. We are done now! Get out!"

Cataclysm felt the tension start to drain out of the room. A few people started putting up weapons, and once some did the others followed suit. There was a general milling around and then people started to move towards the exit. She hoped the truce would last at least until they got to the street.

She surveyed the temple. The fire was low but starting to spread. There were a lot of dead and injured here. Sighing she pulled out a burner phone and called 911.

When she finished she tossed the burner aside and turned back to survey the temple. Everyone ambulatory had left other than a lone figure sitting in one of the temple pews. Pyro had her mask off, twisting it nervously in her hands as she stared at the ground. Cataclysm smiled warmly and walked over. She opened her mouth as she got close, but before she could speak Pyro looked up at her and said, "I'm sorry."

Cataclysm was caught off guard. "For what?"

Pyro looked back at the floor. "For bailing. I should have backed you up with the Qularr. Not just because I agreed with you, but because I was supposed to be your friend. We should have gone uptown and kicked their asses together. And I should have said something when Zoe kicked you out. And I just generally shouldn't have been such a bitch."

Cataclysm didn't know what to say. Emotions she'd been suppressing suddenly swirled in her head. Anger, loneliness, confusion, rejection and more all competed for attention. "Why didn't you return my calls?" she asked more testily than she had intended.

Pyro shrugged. "Embarrassed I guess. Figured you hated me and just wanted to tell me what a worthless piece of shit I was. I already knew."

Again Cataclysm was silent for a time. She sat down next to Pyro. "I never hated you," she said grudgingly. "I was pissed as hell at you, but I got over it." That was a lie but there was no reason to probe that wound right then. "Besides," she added, "any residual shit I might have been feeling you made up for tonight. If you hadn't stood up for me nobody would have, and things would have turned out different."

"I don't know. You sure seem able to take care of yourself now." Pyro looked over at Hi Pan. "You could never do all that stuff before."

Cataclysm shrugged. "I had a good teacher," she mumbled.

"Yeah, so I hear," Pyro said in a voice tinged with disgust.

"What does that mean?" Cataclysm said, hackles rising.

"Everybody knows you're some kind of superhero now, helping the Champions to destroy the gangs."

Cataclysm leapt to her feet angrily. "Call me 'hero' again," she said dangerously. "I dare you." She shook her head. "Are you fucking kidding me? Are you saying I should have let Hi Pan go through with this? Or that I should have let Poe fry everybody's brains? Or let the Qularr take over the city?"

Pyro looked abashed. "I don't know," she mumbled. "But you hang out with those Champions assholes, don't you?"

Cataclysm forced herself to calm down and return to her seat. "Well, sort of, but just because Witchcraft is teaching me some stuff. But I'm not one of them. And they aren't assholes! Well, except for Defender. But the others aren't too bad. I mean they usually fight the big bad guys. They don't mess with us."

"If you say so," Pyro mumbled. Cataclysm was annoyed by her attitude but this wasn't the time to press it. They sat in an awkward silence and then Pyro said, "So, is Zoe dead?"

"I don't think so," Cataclysm replied, looking over at the gang leader. "At least Hi Pan said she wasn't."

"Going back to jail though."

"Yeah."

Cataclysm wasn't sure what her point was so waited until Pyro said, "Rid will take over the gang again." After a bit she added, "He's not very good at it. I mean he tries, but he's a crewleader not a chief. He doesn't have the kind of brains people like Zoe have. People like you." Pyro looked at her hopefully and said, "If you came back, we'd follow you. Even Rid, though you might have to beat him up first so he could keep his pride."

Cataclysm knew she was right. It could be a great opportunity for her. All the gangs would be reeling from the loss of their leaders. The Cobra Lords might descend into civil war over what had happened tonight. A strong, smart leader could carve out a nice little empire from the chaos. She could even ally with Qi, who was next in line to lead the Red Banners with Hi Pan out of the picture. She trusted him and she figured she'd probably earned enough respect from him that he'd go for the partnership. They could divide up Westside between them before the cops could react.

"Nah," Cataclysm said to Pyro's obvious disappointment. "That's just not where my life is now."

"Too good for us now?" Pyro asked irritably.

"What? No. Of course not. Hey, Pyro, I'll _always_ be a Maniac. Zoe couldn't take that away from me and neither can anyone else. I've just started to realize that I'm some other things as well."

"Are you really still one of us?" Pyro asked. "Maniacs are all about anarchy and that doesn't seem to be your thing anymore. You used to talk about setting the city on fire. Is that still what you want?"

Cataclysm shook her head. "Anarchy is bullshit. It's not kids sneaking out past curfew or stealing from a drugstore or smoking a joint. I saw anarchy the day of the invasion. I saw destroyed buildings, people wandering the streets, cops overwhelmed and everyone just running scared. I saw the city on fire. It sucked. Trust me, you don't really want anarchy. You just want the freedom to do what you want. And I'm trying to give that to you and everyone else in the Maniacs."

"Leaving us behind in the process?"

"I'm not the one who left you," Cataclysm said sharply. Then she quickly added, "Sorry. Christ, this is hard." She swallowed. "Look, Pyro, it tore me up to lose the Maniacs but I think it was also the best thing. You know how gang life ends up. You die young on the street or you grow old in prison." She looked at her friend earnestly. "Pyro, get out of the life. Now."

Pyro looked offended. "And do what? Go flip burgers for a living? Find some deadbeat to marry who comes home from fucking other women just long enough to beat up me and the kids?"

"It doesn't have to be like that," Cataclysm began.

"Yeah it does. Come on, with my record nobody's going to hire me. The Maniacs are my only choice. Not all of us have superpowered friends to lift us out of the shit."

"You do."

Pyro grimaced. "Yeah, well I don't have your talents either. And I don't mean this shit," she said, waving vaguely at the battleground. "Even without being able to shoot fire out of your ass, you could still go anywhere and do anything. You've got brains and drive and people listen to you and give a shit about you. Hell, you've been leaving me behind since that first day we met in jail." She angrily wiped a tear away.

Cataclysm was shocked the confession. After a moment, she put her good arm around the other woman's shoulders and teased, "God, you're such a girl sometimes." Pyro grinned, embarrassed. Cataclysm said, "And I've never left you behind. You're the best friend I've ever had and you aren't going to get rid of me that easily. It's been shitty without you. And I don't mean that as an attack. I'm just saying I've missed you, you fucking psycho."

"Yeah, me too," Pyro said.

Cataclysm sighed. "Look, I won't push you about the Maniacs. I know how much it means to have that kind of family. But I've been both in and out, and out is better. If you ever decide you want some other options, you know I'll do whatever I can."

Pyro snorted. "You're just trying to make me your gay little Indy Kid sidekick."

Cataclysm knew she was joking, but said, "Seriously, I don't like the 'hero' shit. Stop it."

"All right, all right. Just kidding."

Cataclysm heard sirens approaching in the distance. "You better get out of here before the cops show up. You still have my number?'

"Yeah. Tried to delete about a hundred times but couldn't bring myself to do it."

Cataclysm grinned. "Yeah, me too. So call me." Pyro nodded

They both stood up. Pyro said, "You coming?"

Cataclysm looked around the temple. "Nah. I better stay and make sure nobody wanders off."

Pyro looked disappointed but nodded. She started towards the exit but stopped after taking a few steps. She hesitated and then came back. "Gertrude," she mumbled.

"What?" Cataclysm said in confusion.

"It's my real name."

"Oh, dude," Cataclysm said in sympathy. "Your parents suck."

Pyro nodded emphatically. "Don't ever call me that. Don't ever tease me about it. In fact just forget we even had this conversation."

"Why not change it?"

Pyro shrugged. "I did change it. I don't need the approval of some old guy in a black dress to decide what my name is."

Cataclysm grinned. "I guess not. All right, Pyro. Now get out of here."


	20. Desert Vacation

"This is Witchcraft. I'll be out of cell phone range for the next two or three weeks so leave a message and I'll call back as soon as I return."

A few seconds later a different woman's voice said, "I'm sorry but this wireless customer's mailbox is full. Please try again later."

Cataclysm hung up with a frown. She had spent the couple of weeks since the battle with Hi Pan taking it easy so her injuries could heal. She was back to fighting fit and impatient to get back to...something. She wasn't sure what. It annoyed her when she realized she had become dependent on Witchcraft's direction. Cataclysm certainly didn't want to get into crime fighting, but at the very least she was ready for more lessons. She was sick of doing nothing.

Her bad mood was compounded by Pyro. Unfortunately their recent reunion wasn't going smoothly. They were spending some time together trying to rekindle the friendship, but something had changed. They were irritable, flying off the handle with each other over imagined--and sometimes not imagined--slights. Emotions still bubbled beneath the surface and they both felt betrayed by what had happened. It was worse because Pyro had closed herself off. It took Cataclysm several days to realize that her old friend didn't trust her anymore. Pyro saw her as the enemy so wouldn't discuss anything the Maniacs were up to with her. Cataclysm had grown tired of denying that she was working for the cops, and the tension between them grew.

Cataclysm cast an eye towards the danger room but she had just finished a good workout in there. She had continued to train in Witchcraft's absence and none of the other Champions seemed to object to her presence. In fact they were, if anything, too friendly. Cataclysm was still getting used to one hero friend; she didn't want five.

She wandered aimlessly down the hall. No, she admitted to herself. It wasn't aimless. She knew exactly where she was going. She peered into the doorway and was disappointed to see Defender was in his office doing something on the computer. If he'd been gone she could have put this off for another day. Cataclysm stood in the doorway debating about whether to talk to him, but the decision was made when he looked up and saw her. "Cataclysm!" he said enthusiastically. "What can I do for you today?"

Cataclysm took a few uncomfortable steps into his office. "Heard from Witchcraft?" she asked, as she'd asked him several times over the last few days.

"No, not yet, but I'm sure she is fine! Our work takes us into dangerous areas sometimes for weeks at a time! Witchcraft is a valiant hero and I'm confident she can deal with whatever dangers she encounters!"

"Yeah, I guess," Cataclysm said. "You don't think she might need some help?"

"Not at all! She is quite a capable woman!" There was an awkward silence until Defender prompted, "Was there something else I could help you with, Cataclysm?"

She shrugged. "I've been feeling restless lately. I've been thinking about getting out of town..." She trailed off expectantly.

Defender said, "Wonderful idea! After the difficulties you've had, you deserve a vacation!"

She rolled her eyes. "For fuck's sake," she mumbled. She should have known better than to expect him to take a hint. "Okay, Defender, let's try this again. Maybe someone should find out if Witchcraft is all right. And I'm thinking of getting out of town for a while."

He studied her for a second and she was just about to snap at him when he finally said, "Ah, got it! Cataclysm, could you do me a big favor? I'm a bit worried about Witchcraft so perhaps you could go down to New Mexico and make sure she doesn't need any help!"

"There's an idea," she said sardonically.

He turned to the computer to check something. "The Champions jet is headed down to Project Greenskin on Wednesday around noon! We would be happy to offer you a seat on the flight! See you then!"

* * *

Cataclysm ducked her head as she entered the plane through the low doorway. It was pretty nice inside, maybe not as plush as a corporate jet but certainly nicer than flying with the rest of the cattle on a commercial flight. She was surprised to see there was another passenger, more so when she realized she recognized him. She struggled a bit for the name and then said, "Wild Bill Tick-Tock, right?"

The cowboy robot turned to look up at her. "Tarnation!" he said with a metal grin. "Well howdy, Cataclysm. You disappeared so fast in that critter dustup a while back I feared you was buzzard food. Glad to see I was wrong."

Cataclysm took a seat across the aisle from him. "Where are you headed?" she asked.

"Home. Back to Snake Gulch. Got tied up in a few scraps here in the big city but I'm finally headed back to my kin. Tired of all the fussin' and fightin' here. Want to get back to play actin' for the small fry. Had enough of real gunplay fer a spell."

Cataclysm nodded sympathetically. "Yeah, sometimes you just need a break from fighting."

With her on board, the plane was ready and they lifted into the air within a few minutes. She and Wild Bill chatted for a while but she didn't really want to talk about what she'd been doing lately so the conversation lagged. He got the hint quickly and they passed most of the trip in a comfortable silence.

Cataclysm tried to read the text on fire magic she had brought but she found it hard to concentrate on it, especially since she figured it would be a bad idea to practice spells on the plane. She stared out the window, dozed on and off, and generally tried not to spend too much time in her own thoughts. The hours dragged but finally the pilot came back from the cockpit. She looked up and was surprised to see a look of concern on his face.

"We are near to Project Greenskin but there's a problem," he said. "We've gotten some garbled transmissions from them and it sounds like irradiates have overrun the facility. PRIMUS has been pushed back to a single foothold inside the complex itself. They have sandbags and a limited force protecting the landing strip but we are going in hot and fast. You are going to have to fight your way to the main building."

Cataclysm turned to Wild Bill, who was pulling out a duffel from under his seat. He took two pistols out of the bag and grumbled, "You greenhorns made me put my big shootin' irons in cargo."

"Yeah, well, we didn't know about this," the pilot said apologetically. "Cataclysm, can you cover us while we get his guns out of the cargo bay?" She nodded. He said, "Great! We'll be down in a few minutes. Stay buckled in because it's going to be a rough landing, but get ready to go as soon as the plane stops."

He returned to the cockpit and in a few minutes she felt the plane turn. She looked out the window and saw Project Greenskin swing into view. Even from this distance she could see the smoke rising from it. There were a lot of little dots in front of it. If every one of those was a radioactive zombie, then they were in a lot of trouble. She said to Wild Bill, "I guess you've got a little more fussin' and fightin' to deal with before the day is over."

* * *

Cataclysm flopped down in the chair in Director Kaufman's office. He looked up from his work and waited patiently for her to begin as she rubbed her face tiredly, smearing her face paint a bit more than it already was. She looked at him blearily for a few seconds before saying, "Major Gertz is dead."

Kaufman leaned back in his chair and let out a long breath. "That's too bad," he said.

"No choice," she said.

"I'm sure there wasn't. Still...I knew him." He looked out the window. "It's one thing to lose a man in battle. This...this is different. I had hoped maybe he'd at least give himself up in the end. Face court martial." He turned back to her. "The base is secure then?"

She nodded. "Yes. None of his guys were willing to surrender."

"Very well. We'll send a squad in tomorrow to recover the bodies. Send 'em home. Not sure what I'll tell their families."

Cataclysm yawned loudly. When she finished, she thought Kaufman looked annoyed. "Sorry," she said. "That wasn't directed at you."

"I know," he said. "I think you've gotten less sleep than anyone around here. Well other than that robot."

"And you," she said. It was around three in the morning but yet she had known she'd find him in his office when she got back to the base.

He said, "Go get yourself some chow and then get to bed. "

She nodded and slowly rose to her feet. "I'll head up to the northern barricades tomorrow. Wolff said there's been a lot of irradiate assaults there lately."

Kaufman said, "Oh, don't worry about that. That's normal irradiate shenanigans. You've gone well above and beyond anything we could expect, soldier." His eyes twinkled. "I'd put you up for a civilian commendation but you aren't in the ASPRA database."

She snorted. She was not about to register her powers with the ATF, no matter what the law said. "Really?" she said sarcastically. "I'd swear I sent that form in a few days ago."

"I may not be able to thank you officially but you have my personal gratitude. I don't have the words to express how great a debt we owe you, every last one of us. Cataclysm, I salute you!" He did so. Embarrassed she returned the salute sloppily.

He continued, "You're welcome to stay at this facility as long as you like but I know you also have your own mission to attend to."

"Not unless I find out something new," she said gloomily. She'd asked him about Witchcraft when she had first arrived several days ago. Witchcraft had passed through here and had even asked Kaufman if he needed any assistance; he had said no, not knowing about Gigaton's plan to rally the irradiates. She had flown off to the northwest, not saying anything about where she was going or what her business in the area was. There was a lot of desert out there and without some idea where she was going Cataclysm could wander for weeks. PRIMUS recon had been tied up with the irradiate problem but Kaufman had told her he'd have them look out for Witchcraft as well. Unfortunately they had found nothing. "Still no news?" she asked with little hope.

Kaufman shook his head. Cataclysm shrugged, "Then I guess I'll help out Wolff tomorrow." She left his office and paused outside. The cafeteria was to the right. Her bed was to the left. Both called to her but she knew if she didn't get something in her stomach she wouldn't be able to sleep so she turned to the right. She shuffled through the deserted hallways, feeling like one of the zombies she'd been fighting lately.

There was one solider in the cafeteria, eating a sandwich and reading a magazine. They exchanged a silent nod as Cataclysm headed for the vending machines. She groggily looked over the sandwiches and finally picked one at random. She got a soda out of the machine next to it and headed for a table near the soldier. She looked at the food and, though she was starving, it just seemed like too much trouble to lift it to her mouth. She rested her cheek on her fist and closed her eyes to rest them for a moment before eating.

"Burnside."

Cataclysm jerked awake and turned to the soldier. "What?" she asked.

He looked up from his magazine in surprise. "What?" he echoed back.

"Did you say something?" she asked.

"No."

She rubbed her eyes. "Sorry. Dreaming I guess." She yawned and forced herself to take a bite of the sandwich. As she chewed she felt her eyes closing again. Maybe she'd just take the sandwich to her room.

"Burnside."

She jolted awake again. The soldier was eyeing her. "You didn't hear that, did you?" she said. He shook his head. It had been a woman's voice, distant and weak. "Does 'Burnside' mean anything to you?" Cataclysm asked.

The soldier thought for a second. "Hmm. Maybe. Might be one of the ghost towns out there. Not sure." There were a thousand towns like that, built during the early settler days and then abandoned when the mines ran out or the railroad bypassed them or smallpox wiped them out or for any of countless other reasons. Most of them were empty now, inhabited by nothing more than coyotes and jackrabbits.

Feeling energized, Cataclysm nodded thanks at him and grabbed her food and drink to take to her room. She had a map there and maybe the town would be on it.

It wasn't, but she asked the recon division the next day and they were able to locate it for her. They lent her a GPS device that would make it easier to find. It was about a day's travel for her so she decided to set out early the following morning.

"Heard yer leavin'," said a familiar voice as Cataclysm walked down the hall the next day. She turned to see Wild Bill leaning against a wall.

She smiled at him. "Yeah. I found what I needed to know, I think, so I'm going out to look at it. You gonna stick around?"

"Naw. This little cavalry station seems pretty well under control now. Time to hit the road and get back to the old homestead." He shook his head. "Things keep gettin' in my way but I'm finally going to get back on the trail to the peace and quiet of Snake Gulch."

"Good luck," she said. "I'll have to come out and see you next time I'm out that way."

He tipped his hat. "You'd be welcome, ma'am. Most fun you can have west of the Pecos."

She waved at him and headed out. Once she got out of the main building, she took to the air and shot off to the northwest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Westside arc was critical considering her background and character development, so I covered it in a lot of detail. From now on I'm going to gloss over more things. Nothing important happened to her as a character during the Desert Crisis or in the Burning Sands area, so I saw no reason to recount those in detail.


	21. Ghost Town

The trip to Burnside took longer than Cataclysm had planned. She had never flown so far and had needed to rest more than she had anticipated. She also had been forced to divert to water holes marked on the GPS so hadn't been able to take the direct path to the town. She arrived well after sunset.

She flew over the town but couldn't see anything. The town was completely dark with no sign of light or activity. There was no moon and the brightness of her flames dazzled her eyes so she couldn't see into the darkness. Abandoning aerial reconnaissance, she landed on the edge of the abandoned town in a cloud of flame.

Cataclysm let the fire die and was immediately plunged into pitch blackness. As she waited for her eyes to adjust she could make out only the barest shapes of the buildings. She whirled as she heard a creak but told herself it was only the wind moving an old door. Of course the fact there was no wind at the moment didn't make her feel any better. Cold prickles moved up her spine and the darkness didn't seem to be lifting. As she felt the panic rising, she finally gave in and lit up her hand.

The flame didn't so much illuminate the area as intensify the shadows. What was worse was that she now couldn't see anything outside of the small circle of light that surrounded her, not to mention that she was now lit up like a beacon. She couldn't bring herself to extinguish the comforting flame, so decided to enter the town with it lit.

Her heart was pounding and she was light headed as her head jerked around to track every imagined movement or sound. This place was getting under her skin and she wondered if she should wait for morning. Then again, a night out in the desert probably wouldn't be much more fun. Plus she didn't want to give into the fear. She was Cataclysm, dammit! She was the thing that went bump in the night, and not the other way around. Gritting her teeth she forced herself to continue into town along what probably used to be a road.

She passed a number of nondescript buildings that she figured were houses. They were all a bit run down but in surprisingly good shape for being 150 years old. The dry desert air had preserved the structures. She peered into one doorway and saw some discarded furniture and general junk but didn't see any reason to go in. She froze when she thought she heard something move inside the house. She listened for a long time but the sound didn't repeat it self. Probably an animal, she assured herself.

She continued along the road and came across the first building with a sign. It was a small residence with a shingle out front that read "Doc Cochran's". She walked up the two steps leading to the porch and looked through the window, its glass long gone, but again nothing inside made her want to go in. Her neck muscles were so tight they were starting to ache and her stomach was doing flip flops. She almost wished something would jump out at her just to break the tension.

Past the doc's office was a wide alley but Cataclysm decided to stay on the main road. Up ahead was a large building with a sign, but the sign was cracked in half and proclaimed it to be the "Bel Uni Sal". From the look of the building she figured the last word was saloon but had no idea what the first two might be. She could almost hear the tinkling of the piano from inside like something out of a movie.

She stopped and turned her head back and forth. She _could_ hear something and it really did sound like faint music coming from the saloon. Cataclysm craned her neck, looking for any sign of movement inside the building but couldn't see anything.

"You got the stink of death on you, stranger, just like us," said a voice from behind her.

Cataclysm let out a little yelp as she whirled around, her flame burning brighter to illuminate the scene. Three gunmen stood behind her, dressed like something out of a Wild West show. For a split second she wondered how they managed to sneak up on her, and then she realized she could see through them to the street behind. Somehow she didn't think they made a lot of noise now that they were dead.

Cataclysm opened her mouth to make a smart-ass comment but found her throat was dry and only a croak came out. One of the cowboys nudged another and said, "Let's kill this strangely-garbed fool and perhaps the dark lady will release us."

The other ghost grinned. "There's gonna be a fresh body in the Burnside graveyard tonight." All three cowboys drew their spectral six-guns at the same time.

Still frozen by fear, Cataclysm hesitated as the weapons came up. She started a spell but the cowboys opened fire before she could finish it. For a split second she wondered if ghostly bullets could kill, and then pain blossomed in her chest and abdomen as the slugs hit. The pain caused her instincts to kick in. She summoned a cone of fire and sprayed down the cowboys. They continued to fire and she took two more hits but most of their shots appeared to go wild. The ghosts dissipated like smoke in the wind.

Cataclysm stood there shaking and sweating after the phantoms were gone. Knowing she might still be in danger, she whirled around to look for others. She didn't see anything so looked down at her wounds and was surprised to see there were none. Her clothing was unmarked and the flesh beneath was pristine. She could feel the wounds burning, though the feeling was fading. In some ways it felt like the injuries in the danger room--pain but no actual damage--and yet something felt different. She felt weaker somehow like the bullets had sapped her life force. She had to assume these ghostly guns could kill, though maybe not as readily as their steel counterparts.

She assumed a ready stance as three more cowboys came out of the saloon. She didn't bother waiting for them to draw and instead immediately opened fire on them. Their guns barely cleared leather before they too faded away. Somehow the presence of the specters made her less afraid. It was better than the unknown. Fighting she understood. Her insides were still twisted in dread but she felt more confident as she moved further into the ghost town.

Cataclysm started a spell as a ghost came out of a building, but he threw up his empty hands and shouted, "Hold on, stranger. Don't shoot!"

She paused, unsure if this was a trap or now. "Who are you?" she asked.

"Reno Randall, sheriff of this here cowtown for...well, longer than any other sheriff I reckon. Uh, you might want to look behind you, pardner."

Cataclysm cast a quick glance over her shoulder to see four more cowboys coming out of buildings. She glanced back at the sheriff--she spotted the badge now that she was looking for it--and moved so she could keep him in view as she blasted the ghosts. He waited calmly, hands still in the air, until she was done.

"Let's get inside," he suggested, nodding at the sheriff's office. She motioned for him to go first and then followed him in. She shut and locked the door, though she wasn't sure if ghosts could walk through walls or not. The shutters looked tight so maybe they wouldn't see the light. She let her flame die down a bit, but still kept it bright enough to keep an eye on Reno. He said, "I was going to ask if you had a six-shooter stashed in that funny outfit of yours, but I guess you don't need it. Is that some kind of injun medicine yer doin'?"

Cataclysm was flustered. "Injun what?" she asked.

"Medicine. You know, magic. You some shaman of your tribe or something?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

Reno cocked his head. "You are an injun, ain't ya? I don't recognize the war paint. What tribe you with?"

Cataclysm grimaced. "I'm not from a tribe. And that word isn't really..." She stopped, sighed, and said, "Never mind."

"Can I put my hands down?" he asked.

She paused but nodded. "So why aren't you attacking me?"

"Well, like I said, I was the sheriff here. Still am far as I'm concerned. Since 1864. Uh, how long is that?"

She did the math in her head. "Oh about 150 years."

Reno looked surprised. "That long? I figured I'd probably passed a century but never knew it was that far. No calendars so it's hard to track the time, 'specially when yer alone. Nobody comes out here. Not 'til recently anyhow."

"Alone? You've got a town full of other ghosts, or aren't they the sparkling conversationalists I am?"

"No, them fellers is new. There's been nobody but me for...really? 150 years?" She nodded. "Huh. Wonder I ain't stir crazy by now. Anyhow, I been out here alone for all that time and then this lady comes by."

"Red hair? Green dress?" Cataclysm guessed.

"Well, no. She came later. This one was dark hair, dark clothes, dressed kind of like a soiled dove." When Cataclysm looked blank he said, "Um, girl of the line? Prostitute? Er, beggin' yer pardon, ma'am."

"No problem. I'm not so delicate as I look. Go on, tell me about this 'dressed like a prostitute' woman."

"Well, she came in and found me here. She said she could help me. Ya see, I made a foolish vow. The Cassidy gang done shot me up for my spurs. With my dying breath I made a promise that I wouldn't move on to the next world till I got my vengeance. Unfortunately those idjits shot each _other_ up over them spurs and they all died. You'd think that would be justice, but naw. And with them dead, I couldn't live up to my promise and so I waited. Then this lady comes along-"

"What was her name?" Cataclysm asked, suspecting she knew the answer.

"Can't say. And by that I mean I can't. She won't let me. Some kind of magic or something. We just call her the dark lady. Anyhow, the dark lady said she could raise the ghosts of the Cassidy gang and I could bring 'em to justice. I thought that was mighty nice of her. Maybe I should have wondered why she wanted to help me but I was kinda desperate to git on to the next life so I agreed to help her.

"So she did some kind of ritual. Said she needed me for...uh, some ecto-something or other? Didn't understand. Didn't care to. We went to the graveyard and she cast her spell and I felt some kind of something move through me, and sure enough the Cassidy gang came back to life...but so did every other ghost in the cemetery! Since lots of 'em were criminals, they weren't happy to see me so I high-tailed it out of there."

"Then what?" Cataclysm prompted.

"Well, not much. I'm not proud o' this, but I hid a lot since then. I was way outnumbered and, you know, you can't kill a ghost so I didn't have much of a chance."

"Can't kill a ghost? I killed several already."

Reno shook his head. "Nope. You just, well, sort of scattered 'em. I can do the same if I shoot 'em up enough. But they just drift back to their graves and come back in a bit. Same with me for that matter. They'll just keep coming back."

Cataclysm sighed and rubbed her temples. "What about the woman in green? You said she came later?"

"Yep. She came in, oh, about a month ago I guess. Like I said, hard to measure time here, but she came in but before I could talk to her she and the dark lady got into a tussle. And I don't mean some kind of scratchin', hair-pullin' girl fight neither. It was like to end the world they was slinging so much magic around. When it was over, the dark lady was standin' and the other wasn't."

Cataclysm went cold. "Dead?"

Reno shook his head. "Naw, but none too happy. The dark lady dragged her off and I ain't seen neither since."

"Do you know where she took her?"

Reno studied her calculatingly. "Well, I suppose I do. And it seems to me that information might be valuable to you."

"Her life might be in danger," Cataclysm said sharply. "What kind of sheriff are you?"

That seemed to sting him. "I'm a good sheriff," he said defensively. "But I'm also a man. Well, dead man anyhow. And I'm powerful tired of bein' here. I'll help you, tell you where the green lady is, but you gotta help me first." Reluctantly he said, "Sorry about that, but the dark lady already lied to me. And you, well, I know people. I've seen your kind before, the rough and tumble type who could end up either side of the law depending on how the wind blows. Sorry, ma'am, but I don't trust you."

"And I should trust you?"

He shrugged. "Or you can look for yourself. But I can do more than tell you where your friend is. I can tell you how the dark lady raised the spirits, 'cause yer gonna have to do somethin' 'bout them before you can have a showdown with the dark lady. Your choice. Justice is long overdue, stranger. You feel like lendin' a hand?"

Cataclysm thought about it but there wasn't much to debate. "I'm not really one to help the law," she admitted, "but I guess I have no choice. What do you need?"

"I need to bring the Cassidy boys to justice. There's four of 'em: Johnny Mack Cassidy, Pistol Packin' Eddie Dean, Hoot Burnett and Lash Roosevelt. They mostly hang out in the saloon on the west side of town, near the graveyard. But I can't get to them through all them other cowboys. Those other folks ain't all criminals, but they are all under the control of the dark lady so do what she wants."

"Why aren't you?"

"Dunno. Thought about it and I reckon it's because I was already here when she did her spell. Or maybe it's cause I was sheriff and too pure to be corrupted." He chuckled at that idea.

"So what do you need me for?"

"I need you to keep them other varmints out of my tail feathers while I go after the Cassidy boys. And I may need your help against them. They ain't gonna be the pushovers you've seen up till now neither."

Cataclysm shrugged. "All right. Let's go."

She opened the door carefully and was surprised to see the street was empty. She had figured the ghosts would have gathered and was glad to see she was wrong. Reno pointed down the road and they headed for the west side of town.

They faced a number of gunmen along the way but never in dangerous numbers. They came in groups of three or four and only once did they face two groups at once. The ghosts weren't organized or even all that observant so their trip through town wasn't much of a problem. Cataclysm still felt the fear pulling at her, and wondered if it was simply a side effect of the magic that kept the ghosts on this plane.

Cataclysm could see ghostly light coming from the saloon as they got close to it. It was a dim and pale glow that outlined rather than illuminated, an image of true light much as the ghosts were images of true men. She could hear music and the noise of a large crowd coming from inside. She and Reno exchanged a glance and then he strode through the saloon doors with his gun out and Cataclysm on his heels.

The music and noise stopped as they entered. "Johnny Cassidy," Reno announced in a loud voice. "Hoot Burnett. Eddie Dean. Lash Roosevelt. You boys is under arrest. You gonna come along quietly?"

Everyone in the bar shuffled to the side, clearing a path between the door and four men playing cards. One of them looked up slowly and eyed the two newcomers. "Howdy, sheriff," he said. "I see you brought yourself some help." He studied Cataclysm with a puzzled look. "Not sure what kind of help, mind you."

"Help enough," Reno said. "Now all of your stand up with your hands in the air. Don't even think about goin' for your guns."

The man snorted. "You know we got nothin' but a noose in our future so I think we'll do this my way."

As though they had gotten a signal, the four men all dove away from the table and drew their guns. Reno went for cover and started firing at the men, but Cataclysm ignored them and turned on the other cowboys in the room. As she had expected, they all drew their guns as well. She sprayed the room with fire, keeping the ghosts' heads down as she darted towards the bar. She cleared the area behind the counter with a roaring inferno and crouched for cover as gunfire filled the saloon.

Cataclysm popped up and sent separate streams of fire towards two areas she had seen cowboys crouching and two more ghosts returned to their graves. She bathed the staircase in a blazing curtain of death, catching several more gunmen as they ran down from upstairs. Spectral bullets hit her in the head and shoulders, and the pain forced her to drop back behind cover. She forced herself up again, figuring she was less fragile than Reno.

She had cleared out half the saloon, letting her concentrate fire on the remaining sections without leaving her back exposed. Ghost after ghost faded into spreading smoke, and now that she was looking for it she could see the barely-visible clouds of ectoplasm drift through the walls in the direction of the cemetery. Soon the saloon was empty of enemies, but the dry wood was ablaze and the building was rapidly turning into a holocaust.

Cataclysm saw Reno standing over the four fugitives, staring at them and oblivious to the flames around him. Nervously eyeing the burning rafters Cataclysm moved to stand next to him. "Why didn't they disappear?" she yelled over the roar of the fire.

"Because I arrested them," he yelled back. "They can't go until they face justice." He turned to her and to her surprise she thought he looked afraid. "They gotta see the judge."

As he spoke those words, the air suddenly grew cold even with the fires raging around them. A darkness appeared in the room, sucking the light and heat out of the flames but not extinguishing them. A deep, thundering voice echoed through the saloon, saying, "Court is now in session."

The four ghostly criminals opened their eyes and stood up in a daze. As they did, Cataclysm saw shackles appear around their wrists and ankles. The darkness resolved itself into a roughly humanoid shape with glowing yellow eyes. "What the fuck is that?" Cataclysm breathed.

"Judge Hensley," Reno said in a quavering voice. "Hanging Judge Hensley," he added. "Stranger, get back behind the bar and stay out of what happens next." Cataclysm wasn't about to argue with him and hurried over to crouch behind the counter, peering over it to watch what unfolded.

"Who calls this court into session?" Hensley demanded in a voice that made Cataclysm shiver.

"I do," Reno said. "Reno Randall, sheriff of Burnside."

"Who are the accused?"

Reno recited their names.

"What are their crimes."

"On October 5, 1869, these four stole my spurs and killed me. All four of them shot me, and shot me again even after I was dead."

The dark specter turned to study the four men carefully. Cataclysm watched their faces in the flickering orange light of the fires surrounding them. If Reno had looked scared, then these men looked terrified. Judge Hensley looked deep into the eyes of each man, moving down the line from one to the next. When he was done he backed up to face them all. "Guilty!" he decreed and the building shook, though she was unsure if it was from the force of his voice or from the structure weakening in the fire.

Ghostly nooses appeared around each of their necks, the ends of the ropes suspended over their heads. "Always knew I'd end up at the end of a hangman's noose," said one, though not the one who had spoken earlier. "Never felt right dying by gunshot."

Hensley said, "I sentence you to hang by the neck until dead." He threw out an arm and all four ropes tightened, jerking the men off their feet. The ghosts jerked and spasmed as the nooses snapped tight around their necks. Cataclysm, despite being used to violence, wanted to turn away from their struggles but couldn't. It took at least a minute until their movements finally stopped. Judge Hensley lowered his hand and the four men disappeared.

"Court is..." he began and then he broke off. He looked around the saloon until his eyes fell on Cataclysm.

"She's not on trial!" Reno said quickly.

"Order in the court!" Hensely thundered. Reno's mouth snapped shut. Hensley floated across the room towards the bar. Cataclysm stood and forced herself to meet his gaze. Her blood felt like ice and she was screaming inside as those glowing eyes bored into her. "Your soul is stained with many crimes," Hensley said. "Crimes of law. Crimes of nature. Crimes of principle." He paused. "But none committed in my jurisdiction." The judge turned away from her and pronounced, "Court is adjourned." He faded, taking the darkness and chill with him.

Cataclysm was shivering. Suddenly she was painfully aware of the smoke stinging her eyes and making her cough. There was a crash as something collapsed and she knew she had to get out of there. She was having trouble seeing but managed to make her way to the door and into the cold, clear air outside.

She bent over, hands on her knees, gasping for breath as the saloon burned nearby. She was aware of a presence and looked up to see Reno standing before her. He said, "Friend, you done me a good turn and I won't forget it. There's a big bright light openin' up, tellin' me to walk toward it, but before I go I'll live up to our deal."

Reno pointed into the distance and Cataclysm could see the land rising into a steep hill about two miles off. "There's a mine over yonder, the reason for this town. The dark lady took the green lady there. I tried to get in but there are quite a few spirits guarding the place plus some kind of wall of darkness. My gut says that's related to whatever she did out here." He frowned. "If you want my advice, you best clear out of Burnside, stranger, or the dark lady will take your soul too."

Cataclysm shook her head. "I need to find the green lady," she said.

Reno nodded. "The dark lady set up some kind of...what did she call 'em? Totems. Yeah that was it. Like a stick with a skull on it and some other doodads, probably magic geegaws. There was five of 'em put around the town. Lesse there was one by the school, one near the livery, one behind doc's office, one about two doors down from the hardware store, and one down thataway near the crick. They ain't hard to find. Maybe if you break 'em that'll free up the ghosts and break that barrier." He shrugged. "That's my guess, but then I don't really know magic. I used to think magic was a bunch of horse hooey, till I got mystically brought back from the dead."

Reno studied her. "I'd shake your hand if I had any flesh left. I'll settle for saying thank you again. Say, I don't even know your name, stranger."

"Cataclysm," she said.

He mulled over the name and then smirked. "Fits you. Thankee, Cataclysm." He sighed in relief. "Now, if there ain't nothin' else, I think I'm going to go on to my reward."

"Nothing else," she said. "So long, sheriff."

He waved and faded out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The game map for Burnside is quite nondescript. All the buildings look alike. None of them are labeled. Nothing is obviously a saloon or sheriff's office or whatever. So I did a search and came up with a very nice map of Deadwood at http://rpglabyrinth.blogspot.com/2011/11/old-west-map.html that I used here. She came in from the SE.
> 
> I changed Reno from the mayor to the sheriff because why would the mayor be hunting down criminals?


	22. Sibling Rivalry

Cataclysm knew where the doctor's office was so she headed in that direction first. The pall of dread that hung over Burnside continued to haunt her. She tried to reassure herself that the ghosts she'd met so far weren't a danger but the insidious fear undermined her attempts to bolster her spirits. She crept through the night jumping at shadows and sounds but met no more phantoms. She reminded herself dryly that she'd mocked many a horror movie that had the characters foolishly exploring haunted areas by night rather than daylight.

She found the totem easily enough. It was basically a skull on a pole stuck into the ground just as Reno described, though it was a cow skull rather than the human one she had been expecting. She studied the symbols etched into the stick and recognized them as necromantic magic but that was about it. Cataclysm hadn't listened very carefully when Witchcraft had talked about spells that raised the dead, reasoning she wasn't ever likely to need a zombie army. Now she wished she'd paid more attention.

Cataclysm knew she should really look at all the totems to get a feel for the shape of the spell, but she was impatient to get out of this ghost town as quickly as possible, plus she was worried about Witchcraft. Cataclysm thought about carefully unbinding the spell like she had Hi Pan's portal anchors, but realized that wouldn't be necessary. Wood, even enchanted wood, burns quite nicely when exposed to a hot enough flame, as she now proved.

The burning totem split open with a satisfying crack but Cataclysm immediately realized something was wrong. Dark red smoke billowed out of the splits in the wood and took a humanoid shape. For a moment Cataclysm was afraid Hanging Judge Hensley was back to condemn her to hang for arson, but the aura of malevolence emanating from this spirit wasn't quite as strong as the judge's. In a chilling voice the spirit said, "You must pay a blood sacrifice for your desecration."

The spirit didn't draw a ghostly gun but instead drew on dark magic. Cataclysm wanted to start her own spell but her voice caught in her throat as the terror rose within her. Ropes of blackness snaked out and wrapped around her in frigid loops. The darkness sucked out her energy and her flames died, plunging her into pitch blackness. Her terror increased as the light faded and she grew angry with how easily this phantom was manipulating her emotions. She latched onto that anger and breathed onto the spark of it. Without even needing to recite a spell, her entire body burst into flame and seared away the necromantic bonds around her.

Pouring her fury into the flame she wrapped the specter in her own bonds, those of searing heat. It groaned and the sound chilled her to the bone but she maintained the magic. She felt it reach out towards her again with its dark magic, much stronger than what she had faced when she fought Poe, and she didn't even try to defend. Instead she intensified the flame to furnace heat, cutting through the darkness that surrounded the ghost. With a roar the guardian spirit broke apart like a cloud in a heavy wind.

Cataclysm's heart was pounding both from fear and from exhilaration. She looked around but the battle had drawn no other ghosts. She examined the totem and it was completely shattered. No magic emanated off it at all. Satisfied she headed off to the next one.

She didn't know if it was the destruction of the totem or her victory over the powerful specter, but she was less afraid than before. The fear still crawled up and down her spine but she felt less helpless under its burden. She encountered a few more ghosts but they were the weaker ones she could easily defeat. She preferred the fighting over sneaking around in the dark anyhow.

She found the second totem and this time prepared herself for the attack. In hindsight she realized she should have expected it from the beginning. The dark lady had bound powerful evil souls into each totem, a common practice in necromantic magic. Even other types of spells used it; Hi Pan had done something similar when he raised the Death Dragon, though he hadn't consumed the souls used.

The battle for the second totem wasn't as difficult as the first, though a few cowboy ghosts joined the fight when they heard the noise. She sent them all back to their graves. Again Cataclysm felt like the dread hanging over the town lightened a bit after the totem was destroyed. In this manner she continued to the third and fourth.

She paused at the final totem. She was confident this would break the spell over the town but that might also alert the dark lady. Whoever had done this was clearly a powerful spellcaster and Cataclysm was drained. She had no physical injuries but the attacks of the spirits, both spells and spectral bullets, had sapped her life force. She was as exhausted as she had been after fighting Hi Pan and this next battle might be even more difficult.

Cataclysm had saved the totem by the creek as the last, since it was the closest to the mines. However it was also closest to the cemetery and to her dismay she realized she could see dozens of ghosts coming out of that area. She guessed these were the spirits she had already fought, now restored to their form and intent on revenge. The crowd was making a beeline for her so she knew she had to hurry.

She sent a searing stream of fire that quickly enveloped the totem, destroying it and releasing the spirit within. Cataclysm immediately redirected her attacks to the dark phantom, pounding it with bolts of flame even before it was fully formed. She heard gunshots and realized the approaching crowd was firing at her, though they were still quite far off. Those pistols wouldn't be accurate at this range, but they still might get lucky. Or ghost guns might follow different rules. Cataclysm redoubled her efforts to cook the cloud of ectoplasm before her.

Then just like that it was over. It was like the entire world let out a long sigh, a dying breath. All the dark magic faded away and the ghosts went along with it. A great weight was removed from the land. The fear that had gripped her faded and her confidence returned. Cataclysm's shoulders fell as she let the magic drop and let out a long breath of her own.

She turned to start the trek to the mine and then stopped, crying out at the spirit that manifested before her. She brought up her hands to strike and then lowered them again. "Jesus, you scared the fuck out of me!"

"Sorry," said Witchcraft. "I wasn't sure who was out here. I am pleased to see you, Cataclysm."

Cataclysm peered at her. "That's an astral form, right? Because I'm going to be pissed if I'm too late and you're a ghost."

"Yes, it's my astral form. I have been trying to contact people for weeks now but have been blocked by the spell that was placed over Burnside as well as the curses I am laboring under. I felt the barrier weaken and was able to break through to contact you." Witchcraft's ghostly brow furrowed. "She doesn't seem to have detected this yet. She is too busy tormenting me. We must move quickly."

"Talisman?" Cataclysm guessed.

"Why yes. How did you know?"

Cataclysm shrugged. "Your sister is the only who who fit all the clues. You're in the mine?"

"Yes. She has me under several curses including Mystical Concealment and Frigid Despair. I have been fighting her for so long and my resolve is fading. The curses seem to have been weakened, which is why I can finally speak to you. This is the first time I've been able to reach anyone."

"Actually you reached me last night. Just the word 'Burnside' but it was enough."

Witchcraft looked surprised. "Perhaps our connection has grown more powerful than I had thought. I am pleased. You are not the person I expected to find, but I am happy that you are here."

Cataclysm started walking towards the mine and Witchcraft floated alongside. "Who else is with you?" Witchcraft asked. "Any of the Champions?"

"No. Just me."

"What? Not even soldiers from Project Greenskin?" Cataclysm shook her head and Witchcraft said, "Wait, maybe you shouldn't go charging in to help me. Talisman is very powerful. Even I couldn't win against her. You have come very far in the short time I have been teaching you but you are not skilled enough to defeat her."

"Actually, I have an idea about that," Cataclysm began.

* * *

"Submit, sister," Talisman taunted. "Your allies have abandoned you!" The attractive dark-haired woman paced like a cat back and forth in front of her prisoner. She wore thigh-high boots, a vest that was open to her belly, and shorts that were little more than bikini briefs. Her clothing was black with a little bit of red highlight along the edges of her vest. 

"I will never submit to the Circle of the Scarlet Moon," said Witchcraft feebly. She hung from the wall, held by chains of dark energy, her face drawn and haggard. "Please, sister, stop this! It's not too late to save your soul from demonic hellfire."

"Let me see you beg," Talisman sneered. "Perhaps I will show you mercy, though it is unlikely."

Witchcraft gave her a weak look of triumph. "Gloat while you can, Talisman. Help is on the way."

Talisman snorted. "On the way? Nobody could have..." She broke off as she realized something had changed. The magic forces had shifted. She turned as she heard footsteps in the tunnel. She took a ready stance as a figure entered the mine chamber, and then she relaxed as she recognized the person.

"You?" she laughed. "Oh, sister, I'll admit I was a little worried one of your friends would come by. Defender or Ironclad, someone more of a threat than this," she curled her lip, "shabbily-dressed street urchin."

"You are hardly one to be giving out fashion criticism," Cataclysm snorted. "I've seen Westside crack whores who dress classier than you. I mean seriously, I know you were in a hurry to get out of the house and do evil this morning but," she dropped to a stage whisper, "you forgot to put on your pants."

"Tiresome," Talisman said dismissively. "You aren't even worth keeping alive to torment." She grinned evilly. "My hellfire power is growing strong within me. I'm eager to spill blood."

"I'll be happy to spill as much of yours as you like," Cataclysm said and launched her first attack. Talisman didn't even bother defending, instead sending out her own stream of dark flame. When Cataclysm saw the fire she despaired this would be another fire-on-fire stalemate, but when the fire hit it was cold and dark and pulled at her soul.

Cataclysm gasped for breath. It was like jumping into a cold pool of water. She dropped her attack and quickly put up a defensive spell, splitting the stream of dark fire so it passed around her. Cataclysm moved to the side to take cover behind a supporting beam and took a moment to reorient herself. She came out on the attack, trying to drown Talisman in a sea of flame. To Cataclysm's satisfaction, the evil witch dropped her own attack to defend.

They sparred for several long minutes. Cataclysm tried to use position and cover to her advantage while Talisman was content to simply stand and trust her own magic to defend her. Cataclysm's tactical moves helped her but it was obvious the battle was not going well. She had landed a few lucky blasts on Talisman but her energy was rapidly fading. The dark magic attacks were taking their toll and Cataclysm struggled to stay in the fight.

Talisman slammed Cataclysm with a powerful attack that knocked her off her feet. "Are you even trying?" the evil witch said in disgust. "I thought a student of my sister's would present at least some challenge, but you don't seem to have any idea what you are doing. Shall I stop toying with you and simply kill you?"

Cataclysm had stood while Talisman mocked her. "You think you're winning," the Maniac said smugly, "but that's because you think this fight is about magic. It's not. It's about _magic_." Cataclysm emphasized the last word with jazz hands.

"What the devil are you rambling about?" Talisman asked in annoyance.

"I mean it's not about spells and rituals, not that magic. It's about cheesy Vegas stage magic. Sleight of hand. Misdirection. You see I picked up a neat little trick a while back. I use flashy fire spells to distract people from what I'm really doing." She gave the other woman a grin. "Unbinding spells."

Talisman's eyes widened and she whirled to face the presence she felt coming up behind her.

"Hello, sister," said Witchcraft.

Witchcraft and Cataclysm both blasted her at the same time. Talisman threw up her hands as she shouted words of power and a shimmering bubble of force appeared around her. Their attacks spattered harmlessly against it but Cataclysm could see the shield was using up a lot of energy. She wouldn't be able to keep it up for long.

"Spirits of Burnside," Talisman called out. "Rise up and defend your dark mistress!"

"I destroyed your necromancy totems," Cataclysm called out.

"Doesn't matter," said Witchcraft, pouring arcane energy in an effort to overwhelm the shield. "This is a different type of raising. She is summoning them through pure force of will."

Cataclysm could feel something stirring in the mine, something dark and dead. And whatever it was, it was getting closer. "You concentrate on her," she called out to Witchcraft. "I'll deal with the trash."

Witchcraft didn't respond since all her attention was focused on bringing an array of spells against her sister. Cataclysm pulled her attack back and, keeping one eye on Talisman, surveyed the mine. There were three tunnels leading into the chamber and she could feel dark forces stirring in all of them. She watched the openings knowing it was going to be hard to cover all of them.

The first spirits weren't the cowboys she'd seen above ground. These were miners. They rushed at her screaming, waving their picks and shovels in the air. Cataclysm brought up a cone of fire but they charged into the holocaust as though it wasn't there. She ducked the point of a pick but felt something pass into her ribs. It wasn't exactly an impact but it still knocked the breath out of her. The fire finally dispersed the spirits and Cataclysm rubbed the ache in her side as she turned to face the next group.

More miners poured out of another tunnel and she turned to face them. She was so intent on them she didn't hear the crowd coming from the tunnel behind her. The pack of ghost dogs fell on her, tearing at her legs and arms and pulling her to the ground. She couldn't even tell where they all were and simply started blasting every time she felt a spectral bite. Cataclysm cleared the dogs and regained her feet, but more ghosts were entering. These were cowboys and she put up a quick defensive spell against the hail of bullets they fired.

How big was this town? she wondered to herself as wave after wave of ghosts came against her. Men, women, children, and animals all came through those tunnels. Every living thing that had died in the confines of Burnside seemed to have risen to crowd into the mine that night. Cataclysm had no cover other than a couple of support posts, and the tunnels were spread out enough that one of them was always behind her.

Finally the rush of ghosts stopped. Cataclysm watched the tunnels for a few seconds waiting for ambush, but she knew she had to help Witchcraft. She turned to see the two women had fought to a stalemate, locked in a tangle of spells and energies like nothing Cataclysm had ever seen. Cataclysm called up all her anger, all her loathing towards this woman who had hurt Witchcraft, and sent a roaring inferno towards Talisman.

The attack took the woman by surprise and her concentration slipped. That was enough to change the balance and Witchcraft started to gain the upper hand. Talisman suddenly turned on Cataclysm, possibly sensing the weak link, and sent a wave of dark energy at her. Cataclysm reacted instinctively. She had seen the spell Talisman had cast and the words suddenly appeared clearly in her mind. She spoke the words and threw her hands out as the other woman had. Fire spewed from Cataclysm's fingers and surrounded her in a shimmering globe. This shield was a bright orange rather than the dark purple Talisman's had been but it served the same purpose. The dark witch's attack spattered against it harmlessly. As Cataclysm looked at the shield she could see how to cast through it and sent a sheet of flame towards Talisman.

Talisman couldn't win this and she knew. "You have defeated me this time," she snarled, "but I will be seeing you again very, very soon." To Cataclysm's surprise, that comment had been directed at her and not Witchcraft. Talisman cast a transport spell and was swallowed in a cloud of shadow. The darkness cleared, leaving Cataclysm and Witchcraft alone in the mine.

A silence hung over them for a moment. Cataclysm listened and looked for other enemies but could sense nobody. She and Witchcraft turned and grinned at each other. "Good to see you," Witchcraft said. 

"Same here," Cataclysm said in relief.

Witchcraft suddenly stepped over and gave Cataclysm a tight hug. "Thank you," she whispered. "I'm not sure how much longer I could have held out."

Cataclysm was taken by surprise by the gesture and clumsily returned it. Witchcraft pulled away after a few seconds but left an arm around Cataclysm's shoulders. "I'm still a bit weak so I might need to lean on you as we walk out of here."

Cataclysm smiled. "I think it's going to be more a matter of each of us holding the other up. You're a lot of trouble, woman."

"From time to time," Witchcraft said. "I see you've been busy in my absence."

"What do you mean?" Cataclysm asked as they started walking towards one of the tunnels.

"That shield spell at the end. I didn't teach you that."

"That? I saw Talisman do it. I just imitated her. Was afraid it would blow up in my face."

"Really. Impressive. Your execution was a bit imprecise, but quite good considering you simply picked it up. You might not need my teaching much longer."

Cataclysm was surprised and disappointed by that remark. She enjoyed her lessons with Witchcraft and had never considered that the sessions would end some day. She mulled that over as they walked towards the mine entrance.

Witchcraft broke the silence, saying dryly, "Westside crack whores?"

Cataclysm laughed self-consciously and said, "Too much?"

"Oh, no. Even as a child I was embarrassed by the way she dressed."

Cataclysm shook her head. "What is it about superpowers that motivates so many women to dress like something from a fourteen-year-old boy's wet dream?"

"I'm afraid that is a mystery even the Librarian's Scroll cannot shed light on."

* * *

With the pall of fear gone from the town, they felt safe settling in one of the buildings for a few hours of sleep. Witchcraft was noticeably better in the morning. She explained that most of her weakness had been a result of Talisman's spells, and now that she was free of them her strength was returning quickly.

They returned to Project Greenskin the next day, arriving late in the evening. During the rest breaks on the trip, Cataclysm filled Witchcraft in on recent events including the attack on the PRIMUS base and Cataclysm's efforts to find her. Witchcraft seemed quite touched by how much effort she had put into the search.

They would have to spend couple of days at the base until they could arrange transport back to Millenium City. Witchcraft stopped by Cataclysm's room the first night they were back. They talked about nothing for a bit until Witchcraft came to the point.

"I think we've become a bit more than teacher-student in our time together," she said. "I'd like to think we've become friends."

Cataclysm squirmed uncomfortably but said, "Yeah, I guess we have."

"Well it seems only fair that friends know each others' names. My real name is Bethany Duquesne. My friends call me Beth."

Cataclysm was stunned. She knew the drill--heroes hid their identities to protect their loved ones. To reveal that secret was a great gesture of trust. Cataclysm was disappointed she didn't have anything equivalent to give back. "Thank you, uh, Beth," she said.

"It's the least I can do after you saved my life, Lori."

Cataclysm frowned. "Don't call me that," she said. "It's not a name I associate with a happy period in my life. And don't shorten my name to 'Cat'. I hate that. Cataclysm is what my friends call me and what my enemies call me. It's the only name I got."

Witchcraft smirked. "You are a tough nut to crack."

Cataclysm smiled back. "Better believe it. And the nut inside this shell is hard, bitter and will probably give you food poisoning."


	23. Just Visiting

The prison guard escorted Cataclysm down the hall. "You know the rules?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said. "Not my first trip." She was dressed in regular clothes and without her usual facepaint.

He showed her into the visitation room where Pyro was already seated at a table. Pyro smiled at her approach and they exchanged a fist bump before Cataclysm sat down and asked, "How've you been?"

"Okay I guess. How about you? Been a long time."

"Yeah, sorry about that. That Canadian business took longer than I thought."

"Oh?" said Pyro with a questioning look.

Cataclysm hesitated. She didn't like talking about her escapades in here. It turned out that the Michigan Department of Corrections frowned upon unregistered metahumans with criminal records visiting inmates. The warden had agreed to overlook Cataclysm's prior convictions after a recommendation from Witchcraft, but if they ever found out about her powers then even one of the Champions wasn't likely to convince them to let her visit the prison.

On the other hand she didn't like locking Pyro out like that. It wasn't fair to her. So Cataclysm leaned in and said softly, "The plane crash was caused by some ice demon with a long name. LEAF is keeping it quiet for now to avoid a public panic. At least one big villain was involved. I really can't say more though."

Pyro looked disappointed but settled for saying, "You'll have to tell me the whole story someday. You know you were on the news when you were gone, right?"

Cataclysm frowned. "No I didn't."

"They didn't know it was you, just some unnamed fire super. You couldn't make out your face through all the flames. But I knew. You were blasting your way into an ARGENT building and someone got some cell phone video they sent to the TV station. ARGENT refused to comment to either cops or press saying it was an internal matter."

It was getting harder for Cataclysm to stay out of the public eye. She had taken to going around in street clothes when she wasn't beating people up, since her usual look drew too much attention. It wasn't the kind of full-fledged secret identity other metas had but it protected her privacy a little bit. "That was before I left for Canada. ARGENT had been hired to expand Stronghold and they were trying to sell copies of the prison schematics to VIPER."

"Oh, that part wasn't on the news. But I guess they wouldn't want that to get out." She nodded approvingly. "Cool."

Cataclysm had stayed out of Westside since taking down Hi Pan. Other than a run-in with Poe when he came after her, she hadn't involved herself with gang business. There wasn't any internal conflict going after global threats like VIPER or PSI and she had started to feel better about what she was doing.

Their extended whispering session had drawn more attention from the guards than she liked, so Cataclysm leaned back and said, "How have things been for you?"

Pyro got the hint and also settled back in her chair. "Okay. I'm still trying to stay out of trouble. I don't want to do my full five years here. And I don't want to get kicked out of the auto mechanics program. So I hold my temper."

Cataclysm smiled. "I'm glad."

"I still haven't decided what I'm doing when I get out of here," Pyro said a little defensively.

"I know. But at least you're giving yourself choices."

"I guess," she said grudgingly. "I just...I just don’t want to turn my back on them."

"You don't have to. I haven't. Maybe I'm not really one of them anymore but I'm still, I don’t know, a friend of the gang I guess you could say."

Pyro shrugged and Cataclysm dropped it. She knew better than to push. The silence stretched out between them until Pyro finally said, "Look, if you're going to ask then ask. The guards already interrogated all us Maniacs. You might as well ask, too."

Cataclysm opened her mouth and then closed it again. After a moment she said, "I wasn't going to ask. You're in level 2 security. She's in level 4. Hell she spends half her time in lockdown anyhow. I doubt you've said two words to her in the eight months you’ve been here. You have no reason to know anything about Zoe's escape."

Pyro seemed unsatisfied with the answer. "And if I had known? Would you ask?"

Cataclysm thought about that. "I don't know," she admitted. "I'm glad I didn't have to make that call." She grinned at Pyro. "If I'd asked, would you have answered?"

Pyro snorted but returned the grin. "Same here. Glad I didn't have to make that call. Probably though. I mean this shit between you two isn't about her breaking the law. It's personal. So yeah I'd probably have told you."

Cataclysm said, "I _have_ gone down and kicked around a few Maniacs to see if they know anything but she hasn't shown up there either."

"Have you found out anything at all?"

Cataclysm shook her head. "Probably only what you know. Some nut job in powered armor flew in, blasted directly into her cell, snatched her and flew away. No trace of either has been found. It doesn't make any sense. Zoe doesn't know anyone like that. Honestly I think they grabbed the wrong person. Once she started screeching at him, he dropped her into the St. Clair."

"Yeah, I guess," Pyro said uncertainly. Neither woman really believed that's what had happened. "I guess I'm not really surprised she didn't go back to the Maniacs."

"Oh?"

"She's stayed away from the Maniacs in here. Kept to herself. From what I've heard she's changed. Not in a good way. Something really snapped in her." Pyro looked at her. "If she's out there, she's going to kill you. You know that."

Cataclysm shrugged. "She'll try. I've faced worse."

Pyro shook her head. "I don't think you have."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pyro is in the Women's Huron Valley Correctional Facility and some of the information in this chapter was pulled from that facility's website.


	24. Prison Bound

Cataclysm approached the plane in the predawn light with some trepidation. Witchcraft had been cryptic when she called, saying only Cataclysm should pack for an overnight stay and get to the Champions jet as quickly as possible. She refused to say anything else other than that someone aboard would explain more.

She boarded the plane to find a sour-faced woman in an UNTIL uniform sitting in one of the seats, drumming her fingers impatiently. She looked up as Cataclysm entered and said, "Finally! Stow your luggage and buckle in." She got up to close and seal the door.

"Who are you?" Cataclysm asked in irritation.

"I'll explain in a minute. We have to get moving." She moved to the closed cockpit door and knocked once and then twice before taking her seat. "Come on, let's go!" she snapped at Cataclysm, who was still standing there.

Cataclysm shoved her bag under the seat and buckled in as the engines whined and the plane took to the air. The woman turned to her and said, "Hold still and don't talk until I’m done."

"What is-" Cataclysm began but the woman shushed her and stared intently into her eyes. Cataclysm gritted her teeth but remained silent as the woman's gaze continued to bore into her. After several seconds Cataclysm opened her mouth but the woman snapped, "Shh. Almost done." Cataclysm scowled but waited impatiently.

The woman let out a sigh, rubbed her eyes and settled back into her seat. "Okay, we can talk."

"What the fuck is going on?" Cataclysm demanded.

"My name is Lieutenant Isabella Maronni. Call me Maronni. At 1:47 this morning, three guards at Stronghold simultaneously drew their weapons and discharged them into key electrical junctions, causing a surge that disabled, among other things, the power suppression system and the surveillance cameras. This led to a massive breakout, which in and of itself would be a catastrophe but isn't as bad as what happened next. Within a minute of the loss of the suppressors the bulk of the prisoners and staff were under the control of Menton, who apparently engineered the breakout.

"The prison has contingency plans in place for escapes, including specific scenarios for the more dangerous supervillains. Your name has been part of the plan to secure Menton for quite some time and has been at the top of the list for three months."

"My name?" Cataclysm said in surprise. "That's news to me."

"Of course. When you are dealing with someone who is probably the most powerful telepath in the world, 'need to know' carries a whole new meaning. Only a handful of people know the plan, and most of them know only pieces. Witchcraft doesn't know why we need you only that we do. We knew the request would be better coming from her than from UNTIL directly. The pilots don't know who we are only that they are picking up passengers in Millennium City for delivery to Stronghold. I won't be telling you all you need to know until you need to know it; the more minds that hold the information the more likely Menton will find out."

Cataclysm's face clouded, though she had to admit that made a certain amount of sense. "Why me?"

"Again I can't tell you all the criteria for security reasons but I'll tell you the most obvious. We needed someone powerful but also someone not as high profile as the Champions or other traditional crime fighters. The person had to be geographically distant. Menton's reach is unknown. Some suspect he can read minds across the globe. But the longer the distance, the more minds he has to sift through to find the right one. It had to be someone who had come onto the scene after Menton's incarceration in 2005 so he wouldn't immediately scan for that person. Since we suspected he would seize control of the prison population, it has to be someone who won't hesitate to beat up prison guards."

Maronni sighed. She looked like she hadn't slept in a while. "There were also specific personality characteristics. It had to be someone who prefers working alone and who is stubborn and strong-willed, as that makes them more resistant to mental influence."

"And it didn't occur to you that I might refuse?" Cataclysm asked sharply.

"No," Maronni said firmly. "It didn't. Are you refusing? Because if so we need to activate the next person immediately."

Cataclysm stammered a bit and said, "No, I'll help. It would just be nice to have at least the illusion of free will though."

Maronni smirked. "Yeah, OK, fair enough."

"So we are going after Menton?" Cataclysm asked. Maronni nodded. "How many others?"

"We're it. The two of us."

Cataclysm was stunned. "So you are saying the two of us are going up alone against, as you put it, the most powerful telepath in the world?"

"Not only that but he's on the lowest level, where the most dangerous prisoners are housed. To get to him you'll have to fight your way through a prison full of supervillains."

"Well I wouldn't want it to be _easy_ ," Cataclysm said sarcastically. "Wait, what do you mean _I_ get to fight. What about you?"

Maronni said, "I'm just here to hide you from Menton. I'm a telepath..." She paused and grimaced and then continued. "...part of Project Mind Game. I'm shielding your mind now and will continue to do so until we meet Menton. But I'm not like him. I can't control people or send mental blasts or throw stuff with my mind or any of that. I just shield. But I have to stay near you, preferably line of sight though I can shield targets I can't see over about twenty meters. I have basic combat training but I'm as physically vulnerable as any other non-meta. And that means you'll need to protect me."

"Better and better," Cataclysm sighed.

"It's not quite as bad as you think. After the big breakout in 1990, Stronghold implemented new automated security features. As soon as the power suppression system stopped the whole place went into lockdown. The prison is now sealed so the entire population is secured for the moment. In addition the facility is broken out into sections, each of which is sealed independently. Sort of like a ship that has compartments that seal so a leak doesn't sink the whole vessel. Command controls the doors between sections, and command is a separate building shielded against every possible threat including mental influence. We will take a specific route through the prison designed to take us to Menton's cell as quickly as possible with a minimum of conflict."

"But power suppression is down. Won't they just break out?"

"Eventually yes. The passive systems will hold them for a while but that's why we need to hurry. More importantly, the longer we leave Menton the longer he has to think, to plan, and to find a way out himself."

Cataclysm rubbed her temples as she tried to absorb the information. "All right. Let's say this insane plan works. We--meaning me--fight my way through an army of supervillains and reach Menton. Then what? With no power suppressors, do I really have a chance against him?"

"Yes because of PACE." Cataclysm looked confused and Maronni explained, "Persistent Asymmetric Cortical Exhaustion, also known as Hot Sleep Sickness. Hot Sleep works by shutting down higher brain functions. Prisoners coming out of Hot Sleep don't immediately regain those functions. For example, it can take as long as thirty minutes for a prisoner to regain his sight. For reasons the scientists don't understand, it disproportionately affects the right hemisphere, where psychic powers originate. Psychic villains are substantially weakened and the length of the effect is proportional to their power level and their time in Hot Sleep. In this case we estimate it will be as long as six months before Menton is at full power. When you combine that with the fact he is having to divert his attention to hold dozens of minds captive, you should be able to beat him." She hesitantly added, "Probably."

Cataclysm shook her head. "You left out one other qualification for this job. You have to be fucking insane."

"Yes, well, that helps. Reckless, overconfident, delusional, suicidal, any of those will do."

"Which am I? No don't answer that." She sunk back into her seat and tried to absorb all of this. "OK, fine. Tell me what villains I'll be facing."

"No."

Startled, Cataclysm turned to Maronni. "No?"

"No. Like I said, I spoon feed you the plan as we go. That means I guide you practically from room to room."

"What if you get killed in there?"

"Then you are screwed."

"Fine, then what can you tell me?"

Maronni spent the next hour briefing her on a variety of subjects such as the general layout of the prison and how the guards were armed. Maronni gave her a small earpiece she'd use to keep in contact with command, who would be controlling the doors, and told her the radio protocols to use. She wrapped up the briefing and said, "One last thing. Remember the mission. We are there to take out Menton. Period. All other considerations are secondary. We aren't there to secure the other prisoners. And we aren't there to rescue the staff."

"We're not?"

"No. Anyone in there is working for Menton. Stronghold is tough duty. It's understood that everyone in there is expendable if that's what it takes to keep the more dangerous villains in check."

Cataclysm frowned. "Including us," she stated.

"Including us."

After Maronni finished Cataclysm had scores of questions, almost none of which the lieutenant would answer. Cataclysm grew increasingly frustrated but there wasn't much she could do about it. Eventually she got tired of trying to pry information out of the woman and they settled back to wait out the rest of the flight.

The plane landed at Stronghold, which had its own airfield to facilitate prisoner transfer. After they deplaned it was a short walk to the heavy gate that was the only entrance to the prison. Cataclysm looked up at the huge entrance, which must have been fifty feet high. "Do they really need such a big door?" she asked rhetorically.

"Grond was a prisoner here once," Maronni said. "And others. You never know what's coming in that door."

"I guess not." Cataclysm was nervous but there was no reason to delay. She reached up to press the tiny switch on the earpiece. "Command, this is Cataclysm. Do you read me?"

"Cataclysm, this is Command. Reading you loud and clear. Welcome to Stronghold."

She looked over at Maronni. "Ready?"

"Suppose so," the soldier said nervously, unlimbering her blaster rifle.

Cataclysm pressed the switch again. "Command, open outer main gate."

"Outer main gate opening."

The massive metal door began sliding upwards with a bone-rattling rumble. "They'll know we're coming," mused Cataclysm. The door didn't open its full span but rather ground to a halt at about the eight-foot mark. Beyond it was another door, just as immense. Every door was like that--an air lock. Only one door could be opened at a time. The two women entered the space and Cataclysm said, "Command, close outer main gate."

"Outer main gate closing."

The sound was nearly deafening in the confined space. The door slammed shut with a grim finality. Cataclysm reached for the mike but Maronni put a hand on her arm. "Now that were inside I want to tell you something." She hesitated. "There's no going back. Command can't take a chance our minds are compromised. That door won't open again until Menton goes down."

"What?" Cataclysm demanded. "You couldn't have mentioned that before the door closed?"

"It wouldn't have mattered. The actual point of no return was two hundred miles out. Everyone within that radius not in a heavily shielded structure is assumed to be under Menton's control. It just seemed best to wait until there was an actual physical barrier to prevent you from backing out. Remember, we are all expendable."

Cataclysm scowled at her. "Any other surprises like that coming up?"

Maronni looked away. "One or two."

Cataclysm simmered for a bit and then shrugged. "Doesn't matter. Nothing's going to stop me anyhow. Ready?" Maronni nodded. Cataclysm touched the radio and said, "Command, open inner main gate."

"Inner main gate opening."

The portal into the prison began its slow grind upward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The entire Stronghold arc is a little silly. For example:
> 
> * Why would a hero from Millennium City deal with it? Don't they have anybody in New Mexico? Or Texas, Arizona, Colorado or a bunch of other states closer?  
> * Why would a supervillain prison contain a bunch of trash prisoners who have clearly have no powers?  
> * Why would Menton stand there in the middle of a cell surrounded by power suppressors rather than escape?  
> * Why wouldn't Menton gain control of people like Wildman, standing out in the open, or for that matter the SPARC team sent in after him?
> 
> The list goes on. I answer many of these questions by changing the story like I always do. PACE is something I made up. The bit about psychic powers being rooted in the right hemisphere is based on stuff I read on sites about "real" psychic powers. The thing about vision is not based on Han Solo in carbonite; it's based on someone I know who has Cortical Vision Impairment. When she was younger, she was basically blind when she woke up until her brain remembered how to see.


	25. Temptations and Negotiations

The heavy security door slid open, letting in the sound of roaring flames and angry voices. "Go, go, go!" shouted Cataclysm. Maronni darted into the safe room. Her hands were pressed against her side and blood leaked through her fingers. Her rifle was long gone, taken away from her somewhere on level B. Cataclysm backed into the room, a sheet of fire roaring from her hands and her eyes literally blazing with flame. A man in a yellow prison jumpsuit leapt through the holocaust to slash at her with his claws. She dropped the spell and smashed her elbow into his face, stunning him. She whirled him around and shoved him through the door. "Command, close door Charlie-7," she shouted into the radio. She continued to pour flame through the opening as the portal closed with glacial slowness.

She didn't relax but turned and scanned the small room. It was about twenty feet across. The walls were heavy concrete, like the rest of the prison. There was another security door on the other side of the room and a stairway leading down. Maronni was leaning against the wall, pale and shaking. Cataclysm ignored her for the moment and sent a blast of flame down the stairs. She descended to find another area just like this one, also empty. "Clear," she called back up the stairs.

Maronni came down the stairs slowly, one hand holding the banister tightly and leaving a smear of blood. Cataclysm helped her to sit and then tore open the first aid kit. It wasn't the first time in her life she'd had to bandage a knife wound. She pushed up the ballistic cloth to take a look. "It's not too bad," she said to Maronni. "The armor saved you. Shallow. Bleeds like hell, hurts like hell, but no real damage." Maronni said nothing, just stared off into space. "You okay?" Cataclysm asked.

"Great," she said with a sniffle. "Hurts to sit because of the shotgun pellets in my thigh. And my fingers are still numb from the ice blast. But I'm fucking great other than that."

"Well if the job was easy, everyone would do it," Cataclysm said dryly. Maronni didn't respond. "Look, we're almost there. You're doing fine."

"You can't lie to a telepath," she said. Then she snapped her head around and bawled, "I know you hate telepaths! Stop saying that!"

"I didn't-" Cataclysm began.

"Yes you did! Everyone does!" She turned away again, tears flowing freely. "Forget it. I'm tired. I just need to rest for a little bit."

Cataclysm looked at her with concern and finished bandaging her in silence. When she was done, Maronni lay down on the hard ground and put an arm over her eyes. Cataclysm settled against the wall and waited.

After about ten minutes, Maronni said, "I don't like doing this."

"Yeah the fighting can be tough if-"

"No!" she snapped. "Not the fighting. The shielding. I hate it. Having that kind of intimate mental contact with a stranger. It's like being a prostitute. No, worse. Like being a prostitute whose clients hate sex." She sat up and shifted so her back was against the wall, wincing as she slid across the ground. "Everyone thinks it's so great to be able to read minds. Trust me. Worst. Power. Ever."

Cataclysm stayed silent. She wasn't really sure what to say and anything she was thinking the other woman knew anyhow. Maronni said abruptly, "How many telepathic supervillains can you name?"

Caught by surprise Cataclysm said, "Well, Menton of course. Mindslayer, Medusa, Psimon-"

Maronni interrupted her, asking, "How many telepathic heroes can you name?" Cataclysm struggled to come up with a name and Maronni said bitterly, "Exactly. You spend your life being resented by everyone around you. Everyone thinks you're spying on them and they hate you. And you know they hate you. You can't help but know. No wonder most of us turn into villains."

"I can understand that," Cataclysm said. Maronni gave her a skeptical look and Cataclysm waved to her clothes. "This costume doesn't exactly inspire love and adoration back in Millennium City."

"The key word is 'costume'," Maronni said. "You choose to put it on every day. And when it gets too much for you, you take it off. And outside Millennium City you're just another meta in a funny outfit."

"Yeah, I guess so," Cataclysm said.

"Most of us 'good guys' are people like me, telepaths too limited to be any kind of threat. And we burn out pretty quick, eventually retiring in the middle of nowhere so we don't have to hear the constant babble of voices." She sighed heavily. "Sorry. Didn't mean to go all psych patient on you."

Cataclysm smiled. "It's okay. And that's the truth." That got a little return smile from Maronni. "If you don't mind me saying so, this seems to be your first combat assignment."

"Yeah. I mean I have combat training but I ride a desk studying telepaths and coming up with ideas to defeat them. I was principle architect of the Menton plan. I've done some escort duty shielding diplomats, politicians, couriers. People with secrets they want to keep safe. Not people with other people shooting at them. Not sure why I volunteered for this one. Seemed like a good idea at the time. Didn't think it would be this hard."

"You sure decided to jump in the deep end your first time out," Cataclysm grinned at her.

Maronni stood and stretched. "Well, might as well get the next one over with," she said, drawing her pistol.

"You sure? We can rest a little longer if you want."

"No. Menton just keeps getting stronger so we might as well go."

"Okay," Cataclysm said getting to her feet. "Who's next?"

Maronni pointed to one of the doors. "Let me think. That will be Ogre, Darkmoon, Windfist and The Buzzard." She gave Cataclysm a quick rundown on each villain's powers.

Cataclysm listened carefully to the briefing. "Same plan," she said as she walked over to stand in front the door. "Blast through to the other door. No reason to stand and fight. Ready?"

"No," Maronni said as she moved behind her, "but go ahead anyhow."

Cataclysm touched the radio and said, "Command, open Delta-8".

"Delta-8 opening," said the radio.

Cataclysm weaved a defensive spell as the door slid open. She prepared to blast fire down the hallway but let the spell sputter and die as she tried to make sense out of what she saw. "Oh shit," she breathed.

The telepath craned her head to look past her. "Oh shit," she agreed.

In front of them was a hallway. There were three cells on one side, one on the other and another security door at the far end. That was all expected. What was not expected was the four bodies on the floor, nor the door at the far end bent and twisted by some unimaginable force. She looked at the bodies. The Buzzard and Ogre were easy to pick out. The two others were male and in prison jumpsuits but she didn't know if... "Yeah, that's them," said Maronni.

"Stay close," Cataclysm said in a low voice as she moved into the hallway, watching the open door carefully. She froze as she heard the creak of a bed from one of the cells. She readied a spell and waited. Her eyes widened as the figure moved into the corridor. "Oh shit," she said again.

Cataclysm whirled around and shoved Maronni back into the safe room. "Command, close Delta-8 now!" she snapped into the radio and then turned back to face the woman.

"Isn't this a delicious pleasure," said Talisman in a sultry voice. "Of all the people I might meet in this dismal place, I would never have guessed I would run into my sister's protégé again."

Cataclysm's mind was racing. She and Witchcraft together had only fought Talisman to a standstill, though to be fair both of them were weakened. Talisman was finally captured by Witchcraft, Sapphire and several members of the Trismegistus Council and even then, from what Witchcraft had said, it had been fairly close.

Talisman waved derisively at Cataclysm's ready pose. "Oh stop that. I don't want to fight you." She grinned evilly. "Well, that's not completely true. Let's just says I don't want to fight you right now."

"Why?" ask Cataclysm suspiciously.

"Any number of reasons," Talisman said, leaning against the wall. She studied Cataclysm and Cataclysm returned her stare. Talisman was dressed in the standard yellow prison jumpsuit but she had torn off the sleeves and legs, and ripped open the front nearly to her navel.

"After our encounter at Burnside," Talisman began, "I was quite cross with you. I made a point finding out about you for the inevitable day I would kill you. And you know what I discovered? That you were on a terribly interesting and destructive path before Bethany got her hands on you." She sighed. "How I wish I had met you before she did. I really think you would have enjoyed my teachings more than hers."

Cataclysm sneered. "Is this the cheesy 'we could have been friends' line?"

"Oh no," Talisman laughed. "I don't really have friends as such. I don't play well with others. I mean I enjoy our games, but my companions generally do not. That's not my point. It's just disappointing to see someone with such a talent for mayhem being straight-jacketed. Restricted by rules. Rules are for the weak. People like us, people with power, we are the ones who _make_ the rules. We take what we want. We go where we want. Nobody stops us. You know I'm right."

"You have a point?" Cataclysm snapped. "Or can we just fight and get this over with?"

Talisman closed her eyes, inhaled through her nose and blew out the breath slowly. "Ah, such delightful anger. Beautiful. So much potential." She opened her eyes again. "But perhaps this is not the time for such conversations. As I said, I don't want to fight you."

"And you still haven't told me why."

Talisman furrowed her brow in thought. "I find myself wondering why you are here. You clearly aren't a resident. I tend to doubt you are after me. I suspect you are after our lord and master, Menton." She chuckled. "I have felt him try to control me but my mind is not as weak as some of the others here so I have resisted him."

"Unless that's what he wants you to think," Cataclysm said.

A flash of worry crossed Talisman's face but was quickly gone. "However," she continued, "even I would not be able to defy him if he turned his full attention on me. And that is not a pleasant fate. You see, Menton enjoys the company of beautiful women and his depravities are, well, they turn even my stomach. I'm not sure even my lovely sister deserves a life as a member of his harem. I not only want to leave this fine facility but I want to be as far from him as possible once he starts looking for me.

"Your goal is that way," she nodded to the twisted door behind her, "and mine it that way," she nodded to the other door. "And here we are in this narrow corridor, each an obstacle to the other. Now we could fight and we both know I would defeat you. No, don't puff out that flat chest of yours and say you could win. You know you can't. But that wouldn't meet my needs. I _want_ you to defeat him, not to die here at my hands. And although you have no chance against me, you are strong and it would drain my powers pointlessly." She pouted, "You might even _hurt_ me. So I propose you let me pass. You open the door there, let me into the room beyond and I won't stand in your way."

"You expect me to help you escape?"

"Quite so. As much as it pains me to admit it, I am the," she licked her lips, "lesser of evils here. Besides there are still doors I will have to pass so it's not like you are giving me the keys to the front gate. Do we have a deal?"

Cataclysm mulled over the proposition. She played it out various ways but it all boiled down to one thing: she couldn't beat Talisman. And even if by some miracle she did, it would leave her in no shape to face Menton. She touched the radio and said, "Command, open Delta-8."

The door opened to reveal Maronni, who would have heard the conversation through the mental link. They exchanged glances and moved into one of the cells to allow Talisman to pass. Cataclysm watched her carefully but Talisman did nothing remotely threatening. Cataclysm moved back out into the corridor to see Talisman watching her through the doorway. "Command, close Delta-8," Cataclysm said.

As the door closed Talisman held her gaze with a slight smile. "Don't let my sister make you forget who you were. Who you could be."

Cataclysm scowled at the closed door for a bit and then turned away. She saw Maronni staring at the door thoughtfully. "You think I made the wrong decision," Cataclysm opined.

Maronni looked startled and turned to look at her. "No, not at all. Our goal is Menton. I'd release everyone in the place if it meant getting to him. That's not what worries me." She frowned and turned to look back at the closed door. "I'm not happy that we met an unprotected mind who not only recognized you but has studied you. I don't believe for a second Menton isn't in her head to some degree. What she knows, he knows. We've lost an advantage."

Maronni didn’t move, still deep in thought. Cataclysm said, "Is that it?"

"No. I don't like coincidences, especially when Menton is involved." She shrugged. "I guess there's nothing we can do now. The good news is that means we can go through her cell. I had planned a different route but this lets us avoid a combat."

She was right. Talisman was on the second to last level, where villains were kept in isolation with limited access even for the guards. The path Talisman had blasted through the security doors led them to the space outside her cell where they found access to the central stairwell that led down to the lowest level. There the prisoners deemed to dangerous even for the most secure cells were kept in Hot Sleep, and each Hot Sleep capsule was in turn kept inside a heavily secured bunker. It wasn't long until they were standing before the final door.

"Time for another surprise," said Maronni. "I have to drop your shield now."

"What? Before I face Menton?"

"Yes. This final door has multiple failsafes. It must be opened simultaneously by Command and by a code entered here, which I will give you. However it can't be opened by anyone under any kind of mental influence including shields. That prevents the possibility of Menton controlling people to open his cell." She looked at Cataclysm. "And I won't have time to re-establish it. Once that door opens you'll have to go in and face him alone. I'll stay out here and reset his Hot Sleep chamber. Once you defeat him, throw him in the unit and close it. It engages automatically."

"And you think I can resist him unprotected?"

"Yeah, as a matter of fact I do. Just stay focused. Let him piss you off. Your anger will help. Physically he's at a disadvantage and the PACE keeps him from being strong mentally. You'll do fine."

Cataclysm tried to tell if Maronni was lying but decided it didn't matter. Maronni gave her the code and then wished her luck before dropping the shield. Cataclysm thought she could feel its absence, though that might have been her imagination. "Command, open Menton's cell," Cataclysm said as she typed the security code into the cell. The door before her started to rise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The map of Stronghold in the game doesn't really make sense so I made my own. It's very loosely based on the original PnP Stronghold module released in 1981.


	26. Parapsychopath

Menton's cell was quite large. Maronni had explained that was to accommodate the mobile Hot Sleep units used when it was necessary to transport these prisoners for some reason. The cell was bare except for the Hot Sleep tube and the handsome Hispanic man standing next to it. "Greetings," he said in a silky voice.

"No," Cataclysm replied. "I have had enough self-important villain banter for one day." She gathered the energies and prepared to send a blast of fire at him when she was suddenly buffeted by a rush of arcane energies from behind her. A complex array of spells swirled around Menton and Cataclysm looked around in confusion. She caught a flash of green and then just like that it was over. Menton stood locked in some kind of magical prison, glaring at her. Cataclysm looked around to see a flying figure settling to the ground next to her.

"Witchcraft?" she said in confusion. "How did you get here?"

"I took another route. I knew your clumsy bumbling would keep Menton's attention, allowing me to infiltrate the prison and attack him."

Cataclysm frowned at her comment and said, "You mean I was just a distraction?"

"Of course." Witchcraft gave her a condescending look and said with laugh, "Oh come now, sweetie, surely you didn't think you could beat Menton on your own."

"Well, yeah I figured I could."

Witchcraft sighed. "You know, dear, this overconfidence of yours has really stopped being cute. You have to start accepting your rather significant limitations or you are going to get yourself killed." Cataclysm was stunned into silence. Witchcraft continued, "I blame myself. As a teacher I have to provide encouragement but clearly it's important not to over-encourage the slow students."

"Slow students?" Cataclysm asked. None of this was making sense.

Witchcraft rolled her eyes and said distinctly, "Yes. Slow students. Really, Cataclysm, why do you have so much trouble grasping simple concepts?" She looked over Cataclysm's shoulder and said, "You see what I have to deal with?"

"Yes I do!" said a man's strong voice. "I understand why you are so frustrated after a session with her!"

Cataclysm turned to see someone standing in the doorway. "Defender? What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to escort you to your cell!"

"My cell?"

"Oh for heaven's sake," Witchcraft said in irritation. "Yes, your cell. It's a prison. It has cells. Really, Cataclysm, pay attention."

"We all know you are going to end up here eventually," said Defender, "so we might as well save some time and put you in your cell now!"

Finally a single clear thought came through Cataclysm's confusion. She turned to Menton and said angrily, "Cut it out!"

"Come with me, villain!" said Defender.

"Don't call her a villain," said Zoe Loft. "That's an insult to us real villains."

Cataclysm didn't bother looking at the Zoe illusion. "I mean it," she snarled at Menton. "Get out of my head!"

"I tried to make her into a villain," continued Zoe, "but she failed at that like she failed at everything. I took her in, gave her a home and she betrayed me. Attacked me. Put me in _prison_ of all places."

Cataclysm brought her hands up to send a blast of flame at Menton and then hesitated. How did the spell go again?

"She didn't just betray you," said Pyro. "She betrayed all of the Maniacs. She left us leaderless. She wouldn't take charge. I told her Rid was no good. Zoe was crazy but she kept us strong. Now we are falling apart because she wouldn't take responsibility."

She didn't need her magic. She'd run across the room and punch him in the face. Kick him in the crotch. Beat him to death. Just as soon as she remembered how to move her feet.

"And she betrayed me personally," Pyro continued. "Abandoned me. How long has it been since you've come see me in prison?"

"I've been busy," Cataclysm said weakly. She knew she shouldn't participate in the fantasy but she couldn't help herself.

"Busy? Well that must be nice. I'm not busy. All I do is sit in my cell, staring at the wall and wondering why my friend won't come see me. Every time it's longer between visits. Pretty soon you won't be coming at all."

"No. I've been trying. I just have so much to do."

"Excuses," snapped Mabel. "She's always been full of excuses. The social worker told us she was incorrigible but we took her anyway. We wanted to help. We gave her a home. And she burned it down."

Cataclysm closed her eyes. "It was an accident," she mumbled. She tried to shut the voices out.

"See? Excuses!"

"Witchcraft can tell you. It was an accident."

Mabel sneered, "Was it an _accident_ that you had the candles we told you to get rid of? Was it an _accident_ that you stole the firestarter from the magic shop? We took you into our lives and you repaid us by destroying everything we had. Because you didn't listen. You didn't care about anyone but yourself. Just like always."

"How do you think we feel?" said a woman's voice Cataclysm didn't immediately recognize. She opened her eyes and saw a man and a woman standing in front of her. Their faces were vague but that's because she had trouble remembering them. She hadn't seen them in person since she was two, and the only picture she'd had of them had been lost in that house fire.

"Imagine the humiliation of having a daughter who is a common street thug," continued the woman. "A convicted criminal. Even now she simply destroys everything she touches. She's dangerous and should be locked away before she hurts someone."

"I'm glad we died," said the man. "Better than living with the shame of being her parents."

"It's not real," Cataclysm mumbled to herself. "It's not real. It's not real."

"Oh, sweetie," Witchcraft whispered. "We may not be real but that doesn't mean it's not the truth. You know what you are. Stupid."

"Selfish," said Pyro.

"Treacherous," said Zoe.

The voices swirled around her. Arrogant. Lazy. Irresponsible. She couldn't even tell who was saying what. Everything faded out until she was lost in a muddle of words. Cruel. Brutal. Destructive. She couldn't shut it out. Weak. Ugly. Worthless. She felt herself drowning, losing herself, dissolving into the sea of recriminations.

Abruptly the voices stopped. Everything was silent. The world came back suddenly, sharply. She was on her knees and elbows, her forehead nearly touching the ground. She opened her eyes and saw the concrete floor of Menton's cell, stained with the tears and sweat dripping from her face. She heard a single voice in her head. "It's Maronni. I brought the power suppressors online. That was another part of the plan I couldn't tell you. Between that and the Hot Sleep Sickness, he's vulnerable. Hit him now. The Hot Sleep chamber is reset. Just get him inside it."

Cataclysm's mind was still muddled. She had a knifing pain in her head and she was exhausted. She pushed herself up and settled back on her heels, seeing all the illusions were now gone. Menton spoke, saying, "Oh, dear. The power suppressors are on. Whatever will I do? Unless, of course, the suppressors were part of my plan."

He walked over and squatted next to her. "You see, my dear, I know you. We've met, though you don't remember. I was there at ARGENT. I had a wonderful idea to introduce imperfections into the new Stronghold systems that would have given me control over the entire prison, even the secured areas. But no. You had to bumble your way in and destroy my plans. Nobody gets in my way and lives. _Nobody_!"

Cataclysm tried to organize her thoughts but she was still caught in the aftermath, like the emotions felt after waking from a nightmare.

"I could have destroyed you at any time," said Menton. "Had you walk into traffic. Jump into a wood chipper. Chew open your own wrists and watch yourself bleed to death. But no. Sometimes you just need the satisfaction of seeing your enemy in person, on her knees."

"Remember what I said," came Maronni's voice. "Use your anger. Stop being a crybaby. So he hurt you. Hurt him back!"

"So I drew you here so I could destroy you in person. I've been awake for _months_ , waiting in my broken Hot Sleep cell, planning my escape and your demise. Did you imbeciles really think I would just wake up and break out? Did you dimwits think you could possibly compete with the mind of Menton? Did little Lieutenant Moron really believe she could possibly be strong enough to keep me out?"

Maronni was right. This wasn't the time for pissing and moaning. It was the time for anger.

"I knew I had to let the lieutenant activate the power suppressors. That was the only way I could lure you down here. But the PACE effects wore off weeks ago. I am at my full power. Even with the power suppressors there is no way you are strong enough to beat me."

Cataclysm turned the pain into fury. She focused on it, probed it like she was jamming her finger into a wound. The anger flared and she turned to meet Menton's gaze. Through gritted teeth she growled, "Read my mind."

Menton's triumphant sneer faded as he studied her and the barest hint of concern crossed his face. "Huh," he said thoughtfully. "I might have made a small miscalculation."

The blast of flame threw him across the room. Cataclysm regained her feet and bathed him in fire. Her entire body became a raging pyre. Fire rained down on Menton from the ceiling, blasted him from the walls, bubbled up at him from the ground. He threw up telekinetic shield to block the heat and stabbed at her with his power, but every time she felt one of his filthy mental tendrils penetrate her mind, her anger redoubled and she forcibly expelled it. He landed a few blows: some of her spells faltered or she'd get confused about where he was. She just focused her will to create a tunnel of hate connecting him and her, a tunnel she filled with a holocaust.

She cast spells she had never cast outside of a danger room. She used her fundamental understanding of fire magic to create incantations on the fly. She called up forces she wouldn't have dared touch under other circumstances. She hammered him with everything she had. There was so much energy tearing through the room that the space between them shimmered and warped. Suddenly the air tore apart into a great rift, spilling out blinding light and searing heat. She hesitated but instinctively realized what she had done. Somehow she had opened a gate to the primal Fire that powered her magic.

Cataclysm reached out and the Fire obeyed her gestures. With a flick of her wrist she sent a white-hot torrent of the stuff at him. She manipulated it with gestures and it obeyed her every command. Menton slammed at her mind but she had retreated into a small redoubt inside herself, a tiny area fortified by walls of rage. In that small space were her most basic functions of life: her breathing, her heartbeat and her command of the Fire. Even he couldn't touch her there.

She swept her hand and the Fire roared around him in a scorching cyclone so intense it lifted him off the ground. She felt his mental attacks subside as he diverted his full attention into maintaining his shield. She poured every ounce of her hatred, her contempt, her fury into the Fire and the heat intensified. She curled her fingers and the pressure on his shields increased. It was too much. The shields collapsed and Menton screamed as the heat reached him. When she closed her fist, the Fire would fall inward and consume him utterly. There wouldn't even be ashes left.

Maronni cried out in surprise when a searing hot explosion blasted the door to Menton's cell right out of its frame. She stood frozen in shock but heard nothing from inside the cell. She finally dared peek around the edge of the doorway and saw Cataclysm standing there, her body rigid and shaking, her breath raspy and fast, her face twisted into a ferocious expression. A few steps away, Menton lay in a huddle on the ground.

Cataclysm crossed the room and reached down to grab the front of Menton's prison uniform and drag him to his feet. She jammed her face into his and said, "Stay the hell out of my mind. Next time I won't stop myself. Do you understand me?"

To Maronni's surprise, Menton looked frightened. He nodded mutely. Cataclysm brought him even closer and grated, "Do you _believe_ me?" Menton again just nodded.

Cataclysm threw him violently into the Hot Sleep tube and slammed the door closed. The system automatically activated and Maronni glanced at the display to see it was engaging correctly. She turned to see Cataclysm stalking towards her. "Wow," Maronni said, "there aren't many people who can say they beat-" She broke off as Cataclysm shouldered past her and continued towards the stairs. Maronni didn't need her powers to feel the fury radiating off her. She mumbled, "I wouldn't want to be the next person who gets in her way," before turning to check Menton's Hot Sleep tube.

With the loss of Menton's control, the prison quickly descended into chaos. The guards were outnumbered but their training took over and they either subdued prisoners in the area or retreated to safe rooms. The prisoners often turned on each other, seeing this as an opportunity to get revenge for some past slight. The forces outside the prison stormed the facility. Automated systems were brought back on line. Anywhere there was a pocket of resistance was visited by a raging holocaust that streaked in, viciously laid waste to the rioters, and then shot off. The guards weren't sure what to make of it, but Command assured them it was on their side.

By sunset the prison was back under control. Several dozen villains, including Talisman, had escaped. Most of them would be rounded up in the desert over the next few days.

That night Cataclysm sat in the dark in one of the dorm rooms Stronghold put aside for visitors. She was sitting on the bed, drinking the tenth beer of a twelve-pack and just barely feeling its effects. She was annoyed when her tablet chirped at her. She considered ignoring it but got herself up and dug it out of her bag. When she saw who it was she unfolded the kickstand and set the computer on the desk. She sat in the chair and touched the screen.

Witchcraft's face appeared. Her smile quickly fled and she said, "God, you look awful."

Cataclysm glanced at the corner of the screen that showed her face. Lit only by the tablet, her head floated in darkness. Her clown makeup was smeared. Her eyes were bleary and bloodshot from the alcohol. Her face was twisted into a dour expression. "Long day," she croaked and took another drink.

"So I hear. We just got the first full report from Stronghold. Congratulations. I'm very proud of you." Cataclysm said nothing and Witchcraft's look of concern deepened. "That's not really why I'm calling, though," she said. "I wanted to see if you were all right. I've had occasion to talk to the telepaths who've gone in to repair the damage Menton does." She paused. "He doesn't fight fair."

"No he doesn't," Cataclysm said bitterly.

"So, are you? All right?"

Cataclysm was silent for a long time. She finally said, "I wanted to kill him, Beth. I've killed in fights before but that's not what I mean. I wanted to murder him. I still do. I want to go over there, blast my way into his cell, tear him out of Hot Sleep and burn him alive. I want to see his skin turn black. I want to smell his flesh cook. I want to hear him scream and I want to laugh at him. And you know what's funny? If I decided to do it, I'm not sure anyone over there could stop me." She shook her head. "You never should have helped me become this powerful. You were wrong about me."

"No," said Witchcraft, reaching out to touch the screen. "No I wasn't. Cataclysm, I can't even imagine what you must have felt at that moment. But even in the heat of anger you stayed your hand. You made the right choice."

Cataclysm snorted. "Not by much."

"By enough. That's what counts."

"And what about next time?"

"Next time you'll make the right choice, too."

"What if I don't?"

"You will." She raised a hand to forestall Cataclysm's objection and said, "But if you don't, we'll figure it out. Together."

Cataclysm made a disgusted noise. Sometimes Witchcraft's faith in her was comforting but right now it just seemed naive and irritating. The fury Cataclysm felt was something Witchcraft had no frame of reference for. The only ones she knew who did understand were people like Zoe or Talisman. She took a deep drink, emptying the can and tossing it aside. As she opened another, Witchcraft said, "Look, I don't mean to get motherly on you, but if your emotions are this raw should you be drinking?"

Cataclysm stared at the beer and shrugged. "I'm a sad drunk not a mean drunk. This actually helps me keep it under control."

"Well, okay," Witchcraft said reluctantly. "Is there anything I can do for you right now?"

"No, I'll be fine."

"I could get on a plane and be out there in a few hours."

"I'll be _fine_ ," she said with a little heat. They both got the same flashback to a moment after the defeat of the Qularr. They looked at each other and shared a small smile. "I'll be okay, Beth," she said more calmly.

"Are you coming home soon?"

"Tomorrow."

"Good. Come see me when you get in."

"Okay." Cataclysm took another drink. "I suppose I'm going to try to get some sleep."

"That might be best. Call me if you need anything. I mean it."

"I know. Thanks."

"Good night," Witchcraft said reluctantly.

"G'night," said Cataclysm as she reached out to break the connection. She stared at the blank screen for a while. It dimmed after a few seconds. She continued to stare until the tablet went into sleep mode, plunging her back into darkness.


	27. Being Watched

Cataclysm fidgeted impatiently after ringing the doorbell. This was the second time since returning from Stronghold three days before that she'd been over to the house owned by Witchcraft's civilian identity, Beth Duquesne . Witchcraft had been overly solicitous since Cataclysm had gotten back, something Cataclysm found both touching and irritating. The woman was getting downright clingy.

The door opened and Witchcraft said brightly, "Hi! Come in." Both women were dressed casually rather than in their usual costumes. Cataclysm grunted as she entered. Witchcraft said, "Dinner will be ready in about an hour. Would you like a beer?"

"No," said Cataclysm, making a beeline for the wet bar. She started mixing herself a bourbon and coke, keenly aware of the other woman's eyes on her.

"Is everything OK?" Witchcraft asked in concern.

"Not really," mumbled Cataclysm. She looked up and Witchcraft was watching her closely. Cataclysm grimaced and said, "I went to see Pyro today."

"Oh?" Witchcraft prompted.

Cataclysm finished pouring the drink and started to raise it to her lips. She stopped to say, "They wouldn't let me in," before taking a long drink.

"Why not?"

"It seems they've been watching the news lately and someone figured out I was unregistered." Although many of the details of the Stronghold breakout were still being suppressed, Warden Wildman had showered Cataclysm with praise in his press conference. Since the incident she had been one of the top stories on news broadcasts all over the world.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Cataclysm," Witchcraft said with feeling.

Cataclysm flopped down on the leather couch. "I was able to call her and let her know why I blew her off. At least they still let me do that. Not sure what I'm going to do now though."

Witchcraft sat down next to her. "Well, not to point out the obvious, but I imagine if you registered your powers the warden would be willing to reinstate your visiting privileges."

Cataclysm made a disgusted noise. "Great, that's all I need. Someone else spying on me. Menton and Talisman are bad enough but I've got UNTIL, the media, the cops, probably PRIMUS and fuck knows who else." She took another drink.

"If it means anything," Witchcraft offered, "you wouldn't be telling them anything they don't already know. You've been on their radar for quite sometime."

The ice clinked as Cataclysm lowered the glass. "What does that mean?"

Witchcraft looked surprised. "I've received a number of inquiries about you from various agencies over the last couple of years," she said.

"And what have you told them?" Cataclysm asked angrily.

Witchcraft was nonplussed. "Cataclysm, these are just routine inquiries that are made when anyone with superpowers-"

"What did you tell them?" Cataclysm demanded more loudly, standing.

"I gave them some basic information on your abilities, your power level, your character-"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Cataclysm said, slamming the mostly empty drink down on the end table.

"Cataclysm, calm down. This is a normal part of-"

"Maybe in _your_ world it's normal to narc out your friends to the cops, but not in mine." She stormed towards the door.

Witchcraft jumped to her feet and hurried after her. "No that wasn't my intent at all. Cataclysm, please wait."

But Cataclysm had heard enough. She threw open the front door and went streaking into the darkening evening sky.

* * *

Cataclysm sat in a folding metal chair in a storage room of an abandoned factory somewhere in Westside. She held an open can of ravioli in her flaming left hand. Enough light came in through the door to illuminate her surroundings, not that there was much to see. She had dragged in some furniture and set up a crude camp in the room. It wasn't much but she'd been moving every couple of days anyhow so there was no reason to get settled.

She stuck a finger into the ravioli. It wasn't hot enough yet but she was hungry so she grabbed a fork and ate the flavorless lumps of pasta mechanically. She froze as she heard footsteps. She put down the can and the fork silently and watched the door carefully.

"Cataclysm?" came a woman's voice.

She pursed her lips as she recognized the voice. She hesitated but figured hiding wouldn't prove anything. "Here," she called out without much enthusiasm. Witchcraft poked her head into the room and smiled as she saw Cataclysm. She came in and looked around.

"How did you find me?" Cataclysm asked with irritation

Witchcraft said lightly, "I'm a witch. I have my mystical ways."

"So you're spying on me too?" Cataclysm snapped.

Witchcraft gave her a sardonic look. "Of course not. I was worried about you. You missed our last lesson. You haven't answered your phone, door or email in days."

Cataclysm snorted at her but tried to dial back the defensiveness. She'd been on the other side of being cut off and knew it didn't feel very good. "I moved out of my place," she grumbled. "Media idiots keep showing up so I've been squatting various places in Westside. I turned off my phone because it won't stop ringing. And this quaint little handyman's dream," she waved expansively at the clutter around her, "doesn't come with free Wi-Fi."

"Surprising considering all the other amenities," Witchcraft observed dryly. "Do you have to pay extra for that interesting smell?"

Cataclysm felt her temper rising but knew Witchcraft was trying to break the ice. "Nope. Includes hot and cold running cockroaches too."

"Sounds nice."

Cataclysm forced a little smile. "You don't seem as offended by the place as I'd expect."

Witchcraft shrugged. "I've lived in worse." She sat down on an overturned metal drum. "I wanted to see if you were all right, Cataclysm, but I also wanted to apologize. Please understand I didn't deliberately avoid telling you about the inquiries. It just never occurred to me. It's a mundane administrative detail of my day. In hindsight I should have realized that with your...colorful relationship with the authorities, you would want to know about it. But I was foolish, not disloyal."

Cataclysm wasn't sure what to say so said nothing. Witchcraft continued, "You need to understand it's not about you or even your past. Yes, in some government computer there is a big file labeled 'Cataclysm'. And there's also an even bigger file named 'Witchcraft' with detailed information on my capabilities, my loyalties, and probably several scenarios on how to respond if I go rogue. I imagine they've even decided how my Stronghold cell would be configured."

Cataclysm knitted her brows. "You think so?"

"Of course. My parents are members of the Circle of the Scarlet Moon and my sister is working hard at becoming one of the world's most wanted supervillains. But that's not why they are watching me. I'm sure they also have files on Defender, the rest of the Champions, The All-American and every squeaky-clean hero you can name. They have to assume any of us are potential threats."

"And that doesn't bother you?"

Witchcraft blew out a long breath. "I'd like to say 'no' but, honestly, yes it bothers me a little. But I also understand the necessity. I know I'm not a threat, but they don't. And there is no way they could. And even if I'm not threat today, what about five years from now? They have to put public safety first."

Cataclysm sneered, "And history is full of societies that put public safety over individual rights. Most of them are remembered as the bad guys."

"True enough. It's a delicate balance. But we also have to look at the facts. Power corrupts. Even the best of us struggle with it. No matter how benevolent we are, it can become tempting to force our benevolence on people. You get people like Floodgate who have good intentions but don't let things like the law or innocent bystanders get in their way. The whole checks-and-balances system has to be ready for anything, including one of us going bad."

"Who the fuck are they to decide they can tell us how to behave?" Cataclysm demanded.

"They are the duly-appointed servants of the governments we have elected to do exactly that. They are, in principle, our voices. Look, we're getting mired in a complex subject and that's not the reason I came. My point is that I never meant my actions as a betrayal and I'm genuinely sorry if they came across that way."

Cataclysm grumbled to herself and then said, "Yeah, okay. I guess I kind of overreacted. Don't tell anyone else this but I have a bit of a temper."

Witchcraft grinned. "Never noticed."

"But I don't want you talking about me to government agencies anymore."

Witchcraft's grin faded. "You know I can't promise that. Cataclysm, when we put ourselves above the law, above the ruling powers, that puts us on a dangerous road. Even more so than typical people, we must observe the rules. We might bend them or work in the cracks between them, but we must resist the urge to cross that line."

Cataclysm studied her. "Do you know how ridiculous it is to say that to me of all people?"

Witchcraft shrugged. "For all your past...misadventures, you've done pretty well working within the gray areas of the system so far. Yes, you've bent the rules a bit farther than most, but you've stayed inside the lines." She paused. "Mostly."

"Mostly?" asked Cataclysm.

Witchcraft ignored the question and instead said, "Let me ask you something. You are powerful. The Huron Valley prison isn't designed to keep out superpowered people. You could easily break Pyro out. Surely you've considered that, haven't you? Especially over the last few days."

"Yeah," Cataclysm said uncomfortably.

"And yet you haven't. Is that a betrayal of your friendship with her?"

"Maybe it is," Cataclysm said gloomily.

"No. You know it's not. I can't imagine you ever betraying a friend. I suspect you've taken the bigger picture view. Maybe you've thought about the other people who might be hurt. Maybe you've realized the complications of a prison break would be worse than simply serving out her term. Maybe you've realized that if she doesn't have to suffer the consequences of her actions she's going to fall back into bad habits. Maybe you’ve even figured out that friendship might be important but it's still only one part of the complex tapestry of decisions that shape our lives."

Again Cataclysm said nothing. Witchcraft continued. "I also know you're worried she's going to fall back into the Maniacs when she gets out. You don't want that, do you?"

"No," Cataclysm said.

"You want a better life for her. If she decided to go back it would be her decision not yours, and yet you'd still be concerned. It would be a pity if she made an effort to build a new life and then threw it all away by getting back into gang activities. The law is not a zero-sum game. You can't expect a judge to allow past good deeds to excuse current...less-than-good deeds."

Cataclysm scowled, "We still talking about Pyro?"

Witchcraft put on a look of mock innocence. "Of course. Who else? On a completely unrelated note, I have always made a point of keeping an eye on criminal activity across the city. I got a report across my desk that says the Maniacs have made significant territorial gains recently. Westside PD suspects they have a powerful new ally. And I'm not going to ask. Yet. But that doesn't mean I'm not worried." 

Cataclysm remained silent. Witchcraft reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. "Cataclysm, this isn't just about the argument we had. You're having to deal with a lot of things -- Pyro, your newfound fame -- and I don't think you should be doing this alone."

"I'll manage."

"Yes, I know." Witchcraft put on a mock growl, "You'll be _fine_." Cataclysm couldn't help but smile at that. Witchcraft continued, "I'm most worried about what Menton must have done to you. I wish you'd get help from someone. There are telepaths who specialize-"

"No!" Cataclysm snapped. "I'm not letting one of those mind-fuckers inside my head."

"Okay, okay. That's a common reaction after a telepathic attack. There are also more conventional psychological methods or support groups."

"Not interested."

Witchcraft said gently, "Well I can certainly tell you sitting in a dark, burnt-out factory in the middle of a slum is not a constructive way to handle it. Pack up your stuff. You can stay with me until your ready to find a new place to stay."

"No," said Cataclysm. She forced herself to add, "Beth, it's not you. Not really. I mean I'm still a little mad but that's not it." She sighed. "I don't know what it is. It's complicated. But I don't want to stay with you."

"Okay," Witchcraft said with disappointment. "How about this. There are some rental properties owned by Harmon Industries shell corporations. We use them to house people who want some anonymity. I could get you into one of them. We can get you a new phone too."

Cataclysm mulled that over. Witchcraft had told her a few months ago that Defender was James Harmon. It was a secret Cataclysm hadn't wanted to know, but considering Witchcraft's relationship with him it was inevitable that she would find out. She didn't like the idea of being beholden to either of them but she didn't know where else to go. Reluctantly she said, "Yeah, all right."

"Great!" said Witchcraft. "We can go now if you like. I took the liberty of picking out a couple I think you'd like."

Cataclysm didn't see any reason to put it off so she shrugged. She got up started moving about the area, picking up the few things she had brought from her apartment and stuffing them in a duffle. It didn't take long since she was prepared to move at short notice anyhow. She cast one last look around the place. "I guess I'm ready," she said.

"Okay, let's go," Witchcraft said, standing.

Cataclysm hesitated. "Wait," she said. She was nervous but steeled herself and plunged ahead. "With all my talk about lying and betrayal, I guess I should tell you something." Witchcraft looked at her expectantly and Cataclysm said, "How much do you know about Talisman's escape?"

Witchcraft hadn't expected that question. "Not much," she said. "Stronghold is keeping the details of the individual escapes secret for security reasons. No reason to advertise the weaknesses in the system until they fix them."

Cataclysm's heart was pounding. She forged on. "I helped her."

Witchcraft was confused. "You helped her?" she repeated.

Cataclysm told her what had happened when she encountered Talisman. Witchcraft listened with increasing shock. When Cataclysm was done, she said, "I'm sorry. I would have stopped her if I could have."

Witchcraft was silent as she processed the information. Finally she said with obvious difficulty, "Well, I suppose you really didn't have much choice. Getting yourself killed wouldn't have stopped her or Menton."

Cataclysm studied her and Witchcraft was lost in her thoughts. "Ready to go?" Cataclysm prompted.

Witchcraft shook herself back to the current situation. "What? Oh yes of course."

"Do me a favor," Cataclysm said as she and Witchcraft made their way through the factory. "When you go after her again, take me with you."

"I'll do that," Witchcraft promised.


	28. Psychotic Dawn

Cataclysm put the last of the dishes in the dishwasher and started it up. She wiped down the counters as the machine hummed. She'd been in the new place for a couple of months and was still getting used to it. It was a nice apartment, certainly the nicest place she'd lived in since she'd joined the Maniacs as a teenager, but it still felt wrong somehow. Part of it was the downtown location. She was a Westside girl and felt out of place here. Plus she still didn't like the fact that it was a Harmon-owned property, though neither Defender nor Witchcraft gave her even the slightest hint of attitude about it.

She scrubbed the counter harder as she thought of Witchcraft. She found herself getting angry every time she thought of the woman. Their relationship had been floundering lately. Cataclysm was hostile to her for no reason. Witchcraft tolerated it but even she was starting to lose her patience. Every time Witchcraft tried to talk about it, Cataclysm shut her down. Cataclysm didn't know why she got so irritated with the woman, and that frustrated her, which made her angry, which she took out on Witchcraft, and so the cycle continued.

Their magic lessons had languished. Cataclysm was afraid to push her power after what had happened against Menton. Witchcraft could tell she was holding back but Cataclysm wouldn't say why. Cataclysm had finally decided to take a break from the sessions and wasn't sure when, or even if, she was going back.

She still hadn't been allowed to see Pyro. Cataclysm had talked to her about the possibility of registering her powers and Pyro's succinct opinion was, "Fuck 'em." They could still call or write and it was only a few months until Pyro would be getting out. However that might not be the end of it. It's very possible her parole officer wouldn't want her hanging out with her old gang friends, especially an unregistered meta who still wore gang colors.

"Stop it," she mumbled to herself. She was spending too much time by herself and her thoughts inevitably ended up going down this same depressing path. Maybe she'd numb her brain with TV for a while.

Her phone rang before she found the remote. She looked to see who it was and felt a flash of annoyance when she saw Witchcraft's name. "Stop it!" she said to herself again before answering.

Witchcraft jumped right to the point. "Are you familiar with a villain named Psychotic? Female, extensive cybernetic enhancements, robot minions?"

"No," said Cataclysm slowly as she ran through the rogues' gallery in her mind. "Doesn't sound familiar."

"Well she apparently knows you. She's taken a dozen or so hostages at the Museum of Natural History at an event they were having about some new display of Lemurian artifacts. She wants you and only you to go in and rescue the hostages. If anyone else sets foot in the building she'll kill all the hostages immediately."

"Hmm. Sounds like a trap."

"Maybe," Witchcraft mused, "but if you don't know her than maybe it's just a fan." Cataclysm rolled her eyes. That was one of the many penalties of notoriety: up and coming villains who wanted to make a name by taking down someone famous. If that's what was happening, this would be her first. Witchcraft said, "You up to checking this out? If not, I can handle it."

"No," Cataclysm said slowly. She hadn't been out fighting since Stronghold, both to keep a low profile until the public forgot about her and over her concern about her growing power. "No, I'll go. I have to get back into the game eventually."

"You know where it is? Right down the street from City Hall. Just look for all the police cars."

Cataclysm made a disgusted noise and then said, "Okay, I'm on my way."

Witchcraft said teasingly, "Remember it's a museum. Try not to burn the place down."

Cataclysm forced herself to give a little laugh. "I'll do my best."

* * *

Cataclysm flew high above the museum looking down at the assembled crowd. She saw police, SWAT, MARS, ambulance and fire as well as a large crowd of onlookers the police were trying to keep back. Three news helicopters and a police chopper battled her for air space. She couldn't see any obvious signs of the intruders. The front door was intact and nobody was looking out. If it hadn't been for all the emergency personnel she wouldn't have been able to tell anything was wrong.

She considered what Witchcraft had said. Those front doors didn't look that expensive so she considered coming in blasting but there were hostages to consider. She could check in with the cops to see if they knew anything about the situation inside, but that wasn't going to happen. She settled down in a cloud of flame nearly at the top of the stairs that went up the side of the building to the entrance. She climbed the last few steps and craned her head around to peek through the glass doors.

She could see only a small slice of the lobby, which stretched off to the left and right out of her view. The building ended to the left so the room couldn't go very far that way. That meant she needed to go right. She didn't like not knowing what she was facing but that was easily solved. She called up her fire shield and pushed the door open.

Cataclysm glanced to the left just long enough to confirm the area was empty and then turned right. There was a rack for coats at the far end and an admission desk to the left with a hallway entrance just past it. About twenty feet away from her were four robots, two with energy rifles and two with arms that ended in nasty melee weapons. She also spotted three men sitting on the ground tied and gagged. The gunners immediately raised their weapons and fired as the other two ran towards her. The energy bolts spattered harmlessly against her shield. The robots weren't standing near the hostages and there was nothing irreplaceable in the lobby so she felt comfortable bathing the cluster of automatons with flame. They fell quickly.

She didn't approach the hostages immediately but instead waited to see if another attack would come. She whirled in surprise when a woman's voice said from behind her, "Cataclysm, I'm so pleased you accepted my invitation." The woman then laughed a cold chuckle that sent shivers up Cataclysm's spine. There was nobody there but she quickly spotted the wireless speaker stuck up on the wall. She thought about blasting it but suspected there would be more.

"Congratulations," the woman continued. "You have passed the first test. As your prize, you win three hostages. Future challenges will be more difficult however." Again she laughed her cold chuckle. Cataclysm brought her eyebrows together. There was something familiar about the voice but it was distorted by the small, cheap speaker and Cataclysm couldn't place it.

She approached the hostages, watching the door. She became aware one of the hostages was agitated. She looked over and he was trying to get her attention, motioning with his head and his eyes frantically. She stopped and looked, seeing a device attached to the wall. It was a laser trigger, mounted about mid-calf height. She looked at the other wall and saw the receiver. Neither had any cables but a wireless signal could set off anything in the room. "Any others?" she asked softly. He shook his head.

It was easy enough to step over the invisible beam to get to the hostages. Cataclysm burned through their ropes quickly, keeping her eye on the corridor. She put her finger over her lips as they removed their gags. She led them back over the laser trigger and towards the door. She stopped the man who had helped her while the other two hurried out the door. "You know what that's connected to?" she asked, nodding at the trigger.

"They put something behind that," he said, pointing to a display announcing the Lemurian artifacts. "I think it was a claymore. You know, an antipersonnel mine."

"You military?" she asked.

He grinned sheepishly. "No. I've seen them in computer games."

"Did you see how many other robots?"

"I'm not sure," he said in a shaking voice. "Fifteen. Twenty maybe. Their leader, she's...she's..." He swallowed. "Big. All claws and metal. Really vicious. I'm going to be seeing her in my nightmares for a while. I think they're after the Lemurian artifact."

"Artifact?" she asked, still watching the corridor.

"Yeah. That's what this thing is about. The Lemurians brought some of their treasures including one big artifact that's the centerpiece."

"How many hostages?"

"Don't know. A lot of people got out before they sealed up the place. But, look, there's kids in there."

Cataclysm looked over at him. He was pale and shaking and had clearly had enough. "Okay, go," she said with a jerk of her head. He hurried gratefully out the door.

She studied the trigger sourly. There would be other hostages coming through here so she couldn't leave it. She backed as far away as she could, called up a defensive spell and shot a spear of flame at the trigger. The display advertising the Lemurian artifacts exploded into a cloud of shrapnel that peppered the room. No fragments reached her but it would have torn the hostages to shreds.

"Oh goody," came the woman's voice. "You found one of my party favors. I do hope it painted the room in a festive splash of red." Again she cackled.

Cataclysm moved towards the hallway. She had hoped the robots would attack and she could burn them down as they came but no such luck. The hall was narrow and short. At the far end were the bathrooms and an archway opened to the right.

She stepped into the short corridor eyeing the opening on her right. Suddenly the floor tile shifted slightly and something made a loud click. Cataclysm threw up a defensive spell and braced herself. Nothing happened. She stood there for several seconds waiting but no trap was sprung. She gingerly lifted her foot. The floor tile made another click and she again tensed. Nothing happened for a second time. She waited cautiously but nothing continued to happen. She grumbled to herself and moved to the archway.

She peered around the corner and saw it opened into the area before an elevator to the right. A hall led forward through some kind of geology exhibit and another one went to the left. The latter was blocked by a clumsy barricade of museum displays. Looking past it she saw displays of samurai armor and ancient weapons. Nowhere could she see any robots or hostages, though she spotted a couple of those portable speakers like the one in the lobby.

Cataclysm was obviously supposed to go forward so she turned to study the barricade. It wasn't very sturdy and she debated about simply blasting it, but decided to pull it apart instead. She started dragging a display case off the top of the pile when the woman's voice sounded over the speaker. "Ah, ah, ah," she cautioned. "Leaving the field of play will incur severe penalties." That was followed by a scream of pain Cataclysm heard both over the speaker and down the corridor.

Cataclysm's face clouded. She hesitated to play the other woman's game but as long as the hostages were involved she didn't have much of a choice. She looked down the corridor and saw it turned left about a hundred feet away. A robot was peeking around the corner. In irritation she sent a spear of flame after it but it ducked back long before the attack reached it and then peeked back, watching her. Cataclysm considered that maybe Psychotic could see through her robot minions' eyes but at this distance she had no real chance of hitting the machine. "For fuck's sake," she sighed and stomped down the hallway.

She was so lost in her irritation she almost didn't see the tripwire. She froze as the light glinted off a line at ankle height. Cataclysm looked down the corridor and the robot continued to watch her impassively. She squatted down and looked. There was another wire, thinner and easy to miss, about three feet off the ground. It would have been easy to run into the second while she was carefully stepping over the first.

Cataclysm's eye ran down the wires. They ran behind one of the mineral displays, too big and heavy for her to move. She scanned the area but couldn't see anything obvious that it triggered. However, the hall was filled with all kinds of displays and signs and other junk, and they could be hiding anything. As with the first trap, she couldn't leave it and risk the hostages setting it off. The two lines each had a little slack so weren't under tension. She could cut them and not set off anything off.

She muttered a spell and sharp lances of fire shot out of her fingertips like bright talons. She brought the searing flame up to the wires and let the heat melt each trigger. They fell to the ground. She pushed each end to the side, out of the main path, and stood. The robot continued to watch her. She considered flipping it off but that seemed a little childish.

Cataclysm knew this could be a false trap so remained vigilant as she resumed her trip down the hall. The woman's voice said, "Bravo. So clever disarming my trip like that. It's too bad that I cheat."

Cataclysm heard a bang and threw up a shield. She caught a blur of motion on the edge of her vision and dodged to the side. One of the heavy displays toppled over and she avoided being crushed only by throwing herself against the far wall. The display smashed to the floor with an enormous crash. The display glass shattered but the shards weren't much of a threat to her heavy-soled boots. She glanced at the wall behind the display and saw a scorch mark and the remains of a small demolition charge.

"Why don't you face me, you pussy?" Cataclysm demanded.

"In time, child," Psychotic assured her. "You're almost here."

Again Cataclysm was nagged by something familiar about the voice but didn't have time to think about it. She was getting angry and it was time to end this. She walked purposefully towards the turn, sending another blast of flame at the robot. It withdrew again but didn't come back. She heard its footsteps moving off. She approached the turn and forced herself to stop and look around the corner rather than barreling into an unknown situation.

There were three robots there. Two were like the ones in the lobby and carried guns, though their rifles were slung on their backs. One carried a bucket and the other, probably the one that had been watching her, was picking up a container of its own. The third robot was much larger and heavier. It had a buzz saw at the end of one arm and a massive hammer on the other. There were also four hostages, three boys and a girl. They looked to be twelve to sixteen years old. They were standing, tied back-to-back in pairs, gagged and blindfolded. When the robots saw her the two gunners threw the contents of their buckets on the kids, causing them to squeal in terror. A sharp smell reached Cataclysm almost instantly: gasoline. The hostages were drenched in it.

She pulled back as they opened fire. "Shit," she said emphatically. She listened to see if the big one would come after her and maybe she could take him out away from the flammable kids but no such luck. The robots had stopped firing when she retreated to cover and they weren't pursuing her either. They didn't need to.

Cataclysm might have been willing to try taking on the gunners in hand to hand, but she didn't have any illusions she could beat the big one in a physical confrontation. However it took her only a moment to come up with a solution. It was time to light a candle.

She reinforced her defensive magic and stepped out. They resumed fire and she kept moving to remain a difficult target but wasn't too worried about the damage they would do. She cast the spell but this was the first time she'd ever done it in combat. It required a bit more concentration than her normal "spray everything with fire" technique, especially since she was working blind. In fact to a casual observer she seemed to be doing nothing.

It took several seconds and then one of the gunners paused. Smoke started to come out of the seams in its skull. It resumed firing but was having trouble tracking her. Then, without any fuss, it keeled over. She turned her attention on the other gunner, focusing on creating tiny fires inside its body. It was like the exercises Witchcraft had taken her through--extreme precision. The difference is if she made a mistake, four kids were going to have a very bad day. She was afraid even this small amount of heat could ignite the gasoline fumes.

The second gunner collapsed and the big robot seemed to realize something was going on. It lumbered towards her. It left the pool of gasoline but she still wasn't ready to take a chance with the hostages' lives. She dodged the screaming buzz saw as she tried to create a fire in its head. The hammer smashed into the wall behind her but she kept her focus. However, this one wasn't going down so easily. She wasn't sure if its internal systems were more robust or if its sensitive circuits were simply in a different place. She took a blow on her shield which staggered her but she continued to concentrate, trying to start fires in different areas of its torso now. Finally the thing started to slow and she redoubled her energies. It ground to a halt, not falling like the others but standing there like it was waiting.

Cataclysm backed off and watched it, suspecting a trick, but it didn't seem to be moving. The sharp smell of burned electronics reached her nose. She knew she needed to get the kids out of there. She moved up and pulled down the blindfold on one of them, a boy about fourteen. He started when he saw her but she was getting used to that. She removed all their blindfolds and gags and they watched her warily. They were bound with plastic zip-ties and she didn't have a knife.

"I don't dare burn these off," she said. She pointed down the corridor. "Go. Head straight out. There are about a hundred cops outside. They can help you." They hesitated and she snarled, "Go!" The teens scurried off, moving clumsily since they were still bound together. She put them out of her mind and turned down the hallway.

Cataclysm came to an open area containing the obligatory T-Rex every natural history museum had. She watched it, wondering if it was about to come to life, but it seemed content to simply stand there posing. A stairway led up and she climbed it cautiously.

"Welcome!" exclaimed Psychotic as Cataclysm climbed into a large open room. "I'm so pleased you have chosen to join us."

The room was set up to display a collection of Lemurian artifacts. The largest of these was an enormous crystal inside a shattered glass case up on a stage. Also on the stage was an enormous figure. She stood nearly seven feet tall, and was probably a big woman even before her enhancements. It was hard to tell what part of her was flesh anymore. Her hands and feet ended in enormous metal talons. Armored plates protected her body and most of her face was obscured by tubes running in and out of her skull. On her back was a pair of rust-colored metal wings, also spiked like the rest of her. Cataclysm understood why the man said he'd be seeing her in his nightmares. This, presumably, was Psychotic.

"Your toys are pretty breakable," Cataclysm observed as she scanned the room.

"Perhaps but at least you can't turn them against me," Psychotic observed.

Cataclysm wasn't sure what that comment was supposed to mean but she was focused on studying the area. There were a dozen hostages in the room, an even mix of humans and blue-skinned Lemurians. The humans were grouped to the left of the stage and the Lemurians to the right. They weren't bound but all of them looked scared. There were no other robots in the room.

"Unfortunately," Psychotic said from the stage, "my invitation to this gala was apparently lost in the mail. I almost missed this event. Sadly, the Lemurians throw deadly dull parties but I have an exciting game we can play to liven things up. It's called 'Who Is Going To Die?'" She cackled madly as she turned to lift the Lemurian crystal. Cataclysm advanced into the room. She was going to need to be close to get a clear shot at Psychotic without endangering the civilians.

Psychotic turned back, holding the crystal. "I haven't figured all the powers of this little trinket," she said, "but I have discovered one thing. Watch." The crystal started to glow and Cataclysm dropped into a defensive stance. After about three seconds a powerful beam of energy shot out. However rather than hitting her, it speared one of the concrete support beams and burned right through it.

Psychotic laughed again. "Isn't it wonderful? Imagine all the other powers it will have. Now here is where we get to the game. You can see I have divided our players into two teams. I am going to use the power of this artifact to kill one of the teams and you get to choose which one dies! Doesn't that sound like fun?"

"No," Cataclysm said, continuing to advance towards Psychotic. "I'm not going to play."

The cyborg sighed. "That is certainly a possible third option but in that case I'm simply going to kill them all. You can save half of them but you are going to have to choose which of them will die." She smiled evilly. "Quickly, now, the clock is ticking."

Cataclysm ran scenarios through her mind. She studied the layout of the room, the position of Psychotic, the position of the hostages and none of it looked good. She had an idea but it wasn't a smart one. "Okay," she said. "I've decided."

"Wonderful!" She chanted, as though she was prompting an audience, "Who...is...going...to...die?"

"You," Cataclysm said and rocketed through the air towards Psychotic. Her only hope was to rip the crystal from her before she could fire it. She saw the artifact start to glow and build up its charge. She slammed into the other woman and it was like, well, slamming into a huge woman made of metal. Cataclysm was dazed but struggled to grab the crystal and tear it from Psychotic's claws. "Run!" she snarled to the hostages. "Get out of here!"

The people froze for a moment but then started pelting towards the stairs, some of them screaming. Cataclysm started to call up a spell when a blinding flash of light dazzled her. She felt an enormous force punch her in the chest and found herself flying across the room. She tried to fire a blast in the reverse direction to slow herself down but hit the far wall before she could get the spell off. She fell to the floor and struggled to get up to her hands and knees.

She looked around groggily to see the last of the hostages disappear down the stairs. She turned to see where Psychotic was to get ready to dodge another attack, but the villain was standing there impassively, holding the crystal but not trying to fire it. As Cataclysm struggled back to her feet, Psychotic sighed theatrically. "Sacrificing yourself to save the little people. That is so like you, firefly."

Cataclysm went cold inside. Suddenly she knew why the voice had sounded familiar. She stared at the woman, at the jaw line that peeked out from the metal the covered the rest of her head, looking for something she recognized. "Zoe?" she said in horror.

"No!" Psychotic shrieked, throwing the Lemurian artifact to the floor. She leapt into the air, glided on her metal wings and slammed into Cataclysm knocking her back to the floor. Cataclysm instinctively threw up her shield as Psychotic tore at her viciously with her metal claws. "Don't reveal my secret identity!" the woman screamed. "That's not how the game is played!"

Cataclysm's combat instincts took over. She blasted Psychotic with a spear of flame, but rather than knocking her across the room it barely moved her. However it distracted her enough that Cataclysm was able to wriggle out from under her and regain her feet. Psychotic snarled and charged at her through the wall of flame Cataclysm put up. Cataclysm dodged to the side since her shield was quickly failing under the powerful attacks.

The woman lunged at her again and Cataclysm continued to blast her. She called down a rain of fire and kept backing away from the sharp talons, but the room wasn't big enough to maneuver. Her shield failed and Psychotic was on her. She felt the sharp metal edges tearing into her arms and her anger blew out of control. Cataclysm reached deep inside herself and released a holocaust into the room.

The heat was so fierce that Psychotic finally backed off. Cataclysm kept the torrent of flame up, trying to beat the woman through sheer power. The air rippled and shifted, and Cataclysm hesitated. She was still afraid of that power and wasn't sure she could control the true Fire. She pulled back just a little but that was all the opening Psychotic needed.

Psychotic leapt at her again and tore at her with the talons on her hands and feet. The villain shrieked at her in triumph and anger, and Cataclysm tried to fight back but she was quickly being overwhelmed. Her flesh tore and pain filled her mind. She tried to divert her energies to healing but that just weakened her attack, prompting Psychotic to savage her with even more ferocity. Cataclysm diverted all her anger into a massive stream of flame, driving Psychotic back, but it was just a delaying tactic. Cataclysm was backed into a corner and couldn't even flee.

Suddenly she heard footsteps pounding into the room. "Police!" someone called. "Get down on the ground!" Psychotic turned to face the intruders and charged at them with a roar. They opened fire and it was enough to slow her down. Cataclysm was in agony and barely able to see what was happening, but she added a storm of flame to the gunfire from the MARS team. Psychotic wrapped her metal wings around herself and started to back away. They maintained their fire and the villain realized she couldn't win.

Psychotic turned and fled for the stage, snatching up the Lemurian artifact. She tore a hole in the wall and screamed over her shoulder, "This isn't over, Cataclysm. You'll all pay for what you've done to me!" She leapt through the hole, still under fire from the police and Cataclysm, and soared into the air.

"Secure the area," said one of the cops and the others quickly moved through the room to verify it was empty.

Cataclysm felt suddenly dizzy and slumped against the wall. She looked down, confused why her arms were dripping red paint. One of the nearby MARS officers turned to her. "Jesus," he said when he saw the extent of her wounds. "You okay?" he asked, reaching out to steady her. "We better get you to a medic."

Cataclysm curled her lip at him. "Don't touch me," she snarled and then the floor hit her in the face.

* * *

"Zoe Loft?" Witchcraft said in surprise, interrupting her healing spell. "Are you sure?"

Cataclysm was sitting on the front bumper of one of the ambulances, having refused care from the EMTs, but was allowing Witchcraft to tend to her. "Not DNA-test sure but," she shrugged and then winced in pain, "yeah, I'm pretty sure."

Witchcraft was stunned. She stammered, "But how...who...when?"

"Yeah, that's about what I said," Cataclysm observed drily.

Witchcraft shook herself back to the immediate situation and resumed the healing spell. "Did she know anyone with access to that kind of technology?"

"Not that I knew of, but I imagine she had her secrets. Probably related to the people who broke her out of prison but we never figured out who they were either."

"The robots will probably give us a clue," Witchcraft said as she finished up. "If we can trace their tech that may lead us to her."

"Finding her won't be the problem," Cataclysm said gloomily. "She'll be back."

"I imagine so," said Witchcraft, studying her. "Are you reluctant to fight her?"

"Reluctant?" Cataclysm asked in surprise. "No. Any loyalty I felt towards her is long gone. Afraid is a better word."

"I didn't think anything scared you," Witchcraft said lightly.

"I didn't either," Cataclysm replied seriously. "But she was...not just strong but crazy. Scary crazy." She shook her head. "I almost didn't beat her." She grimaced and added, "Probably wouldn't have if the idiot cops hadn't shown up. And with that artifact she'll probably become even more powerful." She stared into the crowd that were watching the scene. "I guess I need to become more powerful myself," she said softly.

"We should resume our lessons," Witchcraft said.

"No," Cataclysm said quickly and forced herself to meet the other woman's eyes. "I think maybe I've gone as far as I can with you." Witchcraft looked surprised and Cataclysm continued. "I should find another teacher."

"Oh," Witchcraft said, trying not to look hurt. "Well, yes, I suppose I can see that. Get a different perspective. I know of a number of good instructors."

Cataclysm shook her head. "No, I already have some ideas about that. I'll figure it out."

* * *

The man studied her over his steepled fingers. He was an older man with dark hair and a beard streaked with gray. He was well dressed and the office they were in, located in the back of the Great Beast Bookstore, was tastefully furnished. He sat behind a mahogany desk that held several magical artifacts. "And why are you seeking a new instructor?" he asked, impaling her with his gaze.

Cataclysm met his look without flinching. "I think I've gone as far as I can with my current teacher."

"Witchcraft isn't showing you what you need?" he asked archly.

Cataclysm was surprised but knew she shouldn't be. Everyone knew about her lessons with Witchcraft by now. "Not exactly. Witchcraft is a cop. I need a solider."

He nodded, seeming to accept the answer. "You do understand our techniques are more...direct than what you might have learned."

"I think the word you are looking for is 'lethal'," she said. "That's what I want."

"And you understand there will be a price for our training."

Cataclysm forced herself not to fidget but her insides were twisting. "I don't want to join your little cult," she said sharply. She quickly added, "But yes I realize there will be a price."

"We do occasional train those outside of our..." He smiled coldly. "... _little cult_ if they show potential. Those who understand the real value of power. And who have something to offer."

He fell silent, continuing to watch her in that predatory way that was clearly designed to make her uncomfortable. "So?" she snapped. "Do we have a deal?"

"Yes," he said. "I think we can accommodate one another. Come back here, oh, let's say Thursday? Around ten o'clock in the evening. We can get started on your training."

"Fine," Cataclysm said and stood. She left the office, closing the door behind her. The man studied the closed door as another door opened behind him and a figure entered the room. The new man was dressed in a black robe. His lips were stained dark red and what little of his face that showed from behind the low hood was painted with arcane tattoos.

"You think she will serve our purpose?" the man at the desk asked.

"Yes," said the Black Shepherd in a voice like the grave. "Not only will she aid in our ritual but she will not help Witchcraft work against us. It is only a matter of time before the woman discovers the Qliphothic tears and sends someone to investigate."

The seated man made a thoughtful noise. "She will be hard to control," he observed.

"We only need her for a little while," said the Black Shepherd. "She won't live long enough to betray us."

"Yes, I suppose not."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rather than the overly simplistic museum from the game I used a map of Cranbrook Institute of Science, a real natural history museum located about 20 miles NW of the one in the game. I took a few liberties with the design (like ignoring the main entrance) for a better story.
> 
> It occurred to me as I played the Downtown arc that she would be tempted by DEMON. Her attitude towards power is more like theirs than like Witchcraft's. She'll do the DEMON arc but from the other side, working with them.


	29. Choosing Sides

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally wrote this story a few years ago and was posting it on my personal site. At the point in the writing, in an effort to get myself to finish the project, I decided to change the narrative style. I started skipping filler chapters, instead opting for summaries like you see below.
> 
> A few months have passed. Cataclysm has been taking magical instruction from DEMON and has become significantly more powerful. She has incorporated dark magic into her fire rituals. She has also learned to open the Fire Rift more predictably and control the forces with confidence. In return she has helped DEMON with a project, though she doesn't know the scope of it. She recovered the Key of Hecate and participated in the summoning of the demons Abaddon, Barbos, Chemosh, and Danjal.
> 
> Meanwhile she has continued to hunt for Psychotic. She's had a few run-ins with her robot minions, broken up occasional technological thefts but not yet met up with Psychotic again. Examination of the robot remains reveal that they are ARGENT technology but it isn't clear if the organization is directly involved or if someone is using purchased or stolen technology. She has found no information at all about what happened to Zoe Loft between her escape from prison and her reappearance as Psychotic.
> 
> * * *

Cataclysm looked across the pentagram nervously from her position at one of its points. At each of the other nodes were the demons Abaddon, Barbos, Chemosh, and Danjal. She studied the pentagram symbols and they seemed to be drawn correctly but she was hardly an expert. Still she was more well-versed in summoning magic than she had been, having been a principle participant in the summoning of these very demons. She ran over the spell in her mind again. It wasn't a difficult incantation but hers was only one component of a complex ritual. The other dozen spellcasters in the room would each have to do their part, building an arcane structure no single spellcaster could manage alone. However she was key. Her innate connection to Fire would provide the power needed to summon a being as powerful as Bloodstone.

"Whenever you're ready," the Black Shepherd said impatiently. Cataclysm pulled herself back to the current situation, realizing she was dawdling. She ran her eyes over the collection of lesser wizards gathered to support the ritual. She took a deep breath and, trying to keep her voice steady, began the recitation.

The demons added their deep voices to the chant and the other spellcasters began their rituals. Cataclysm could see the pattern start to build inside the pentagram. She could appreciate its beauty and intricacy even as she dreaded what it foreshadowed. This was a more involved gate than the one Hi Pan had created to summon the Death Dragon, and not one that would be easily pulled apart once finished.

She was so focused on the ritual that it took several minutes for the other sounds to register. Her attention wandered as she realized she could hear fighting in another part of the complex. She continued the spell but swiveled her eyes over to see two DEMON wizards rush through the door at the top of the sweeping staircase that was the room's only exit. They whispered excitedly to Black Shepherd. He pointed to the door and hissed something back, and the two wizards reluctantly left the room.

Carefully balancing the arcane forces in her mind, Cataclysm said, "What is it?"

"Nothing you need to concern yourself with," Black Shepherd rumbled. "Continue the ritual."

Cataclysm tried to ignore the commotion, audible even through the heavy door, but it was coming closer. Then the door burst open and Witchcraft strode into the room and stood at the head of the stairs. Black Shepherd said, "Keep going! I will deal with this pest."

"No," said Cataclysm firmly, locking gazes with Witchcraft and letting the spell fade. The others struggled to maintain their parts but without her supporting it, the structure collapsed and faded.

"What are you doing?" Black Shepherd demanded of Cataclysm.

"This is my fight," Cataclysm said, her eyes still on Witchcraft. She left the pentagram and approached the steps.

Black Shepherd studied her shrewdly. "Yes," he said, waving the others back. "Perhaps this is a good opportunity for you to prove your allegiance."

Cataclysm ignored him as she climbed the stairs until she stood before Witchcraft. "What are you doing here?"

"I promised you I'd come," Witchcraft said. Cataclysm looked confused and Witchcraft said, "You asked me once what I'd do if you used the powers I taught you to commit crimes. I said I'd stop you. I've turned a blind eye for too long, hoping you'd come to your senses, but I can't stand idly by any longer." She looked over the people in the room and shook her head. "I had no idea you had fallen so far."

"So you're prepared to fight me? All of us?"

"If necessary," Witchcraft said sadly. "If you force me to."

Cataclysm sneered. "Force you to? Witchcraft, this is who I am. Who I've always been. Don't act surprised."

"No," Witchcraft said firmly. "This isn't the same. Cataclysm, these people are not like the Maniacs. DEMON is not just some big street gang. These people aren't criminal; they are evil. There's a difference."

"Not as big a difference as you think," Cataclysm replied, but even as she said it she knew that Witchcraft was right. It had all felt wrong and she hadn't been able to figure out why, but what Witchcraft had said put it in perspective.

"Don't you see what they are doing?" Witchcraft said in frustration. "They aren't your friends. They aren't your family. They are just using you."

"And you aren't?" Cataclysm said hotly.

Witchcraft looked stunned. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm not your sister," she snapped. "You can't save me to make up for your guilt over being unable to save Talisman."

Witchcraft's jaw dropped. "What? Cataclysm, that's never been my-"

"Save it! I'm tired of you trying to manipulate me, trying to turn me into something I'm not. I'm tired of everyone trying to decide they know who I am and what's best for me. I'm here because I want to be. Using me? Of course they are, and I'm using them. Everybody uses everybody. That's the way the real world works."

"After all this time, that's still what you believe?" Witchcraft asked. "Then I've failed as your teacher. And your friend."

"You live your happy little life and have no idea what people like me go through," Cataclysm snorted. "We've had this conversation before. You don't understand and never will. Why bother going through it again?"

Witchcraft firmed her jaw. "You're right. The time for talk is past. It's time for us to find out which of us is right about you. You can't keep playing both sides of the line. It's time for you decide which side you're on."

Cataclysm's frown deepened as she studied the other woman. Thoughts chased each other through her mind but the decision was clear. She knew who she really was. "I've picked my side," Cataclysm said as she called up the fire around her. "I'm sorry, Witchcraft." The two women held each other's gazes for a second and then Cataclysm added, "The Talisman crack was out of line," before turning to rain fire down on the DEMON wizards.

They were caught unprepared, not expecting an attack from that quarter, and they frantically threw up defensive spells to block the searing droplets falling on them from the ceiling. Black Shepherd reacted more quickly, wrapping her in a binding curse that broke her own spell. Cataclysm struggled to break free as Black Shepherd opened an interdimensional gate. Hell hounds and infernals swarmed through and, at his command, charged up the stairs towards her.

Witchcraft meanwhile had teleported into the middle of the pentagram to engage the four greater demons there. Cataclysm managed to cut through the binding spell and threw up her fire shield before the demons arrived. They clawed at the barrier while she bathed them with a cone of searing flame. They were weak creatures and fell by the time her shield failed, but behind them were two burly Morbanes waving nasty-looking spiked weapons.

She blocked the blows as best she could with the plates on her forearms but she wasn't built for melee combat. She used one of her new spells and a ball of fire exploded between them. Unlike her other fire powers, this fire was laced with Qliphothic energy that channeled fire magic and enhanced her other fire spells. She blasted them with streams of fire and they fell.

Cataclysm was suddenly gripped by energy-draining dark magic and fell to her knees as she felt her life force being sucked out. "Your soul will be mine," Black Shepherd grated as he loomed up before her. Cataclysm surrounded herself with a fiery aura and blasted him with a fireball. She managed to break his spell and quickly buried him in a sheet of flame. The fire splashed against his barrier spell as he continued to strike at her with dark magic. She intensified her attacks trying to trigger the rage that was the source of her power, but she found she just wasn't particularly angry right at the moment. She felt a lot of emotions but fury wasn't one of them.

Dammit, she cursed at herself, if you don't get mad you are going to lose. She dug up her memories of her recent battles with Menton and Psychotic trying to tap into the emotions she had felt at the time but it wasn't the same. The memories were painful but not rage-inducing. She just couldn't make herself angry and that was pissing her off.

Cataclysm realized she'd lost track of Witchcraft. The energies flying out from her battle with Black Shepherd were blocking out the rest of the room. The other woman might have been overwhelmed by the powerful demons. She might be hurt and that would be Cataclysm's fault. If she hadn't sought out DEMON's teachings, Witchcraft wouldn't have had to risk coming here. Her selfishness and hunger for power had endangered someone who, despite the problems they were having, had been a true friend.

Cataclysm raged at herself and felt the energy feed into her fire spells. The heat intensified as she realized she had to finish battling Black Shepherd to find out if Witchcraft was safe. She brought up the roaring holocaust she could summon only at the peak of her fury and she finally got what she was looking for--the air rippled and warped. She continued to pour power into her attack, not directly to hurt him but simply to put more pressure on the walls between this world and the Plane of Fire. Finally it happened, and the air tore open to spill out searing heat.

Without hesitation Cataclysm directed the Fire at Black Shepherd. He knew about her ability but may have simply underestimated how much control she had. She wrapped him in the cyclone she had used on Menton and his defenses quickly failed. After he fell she looked around the chamber. There were still a few DEMON initiates peppering her with spells so weak she hadn't even felt them. Witchcraft had downed two of the four demons but was engaged with the other two. Cataclysm spread her hands and the Fire swept through the room, covering everything other than an area around Witchcraft. When she pulled it back and closed the rift, she and Witchcraft were the only two left standing.

Cataclysm surveyed the room to see if there were any threats left but it looked like everyone was down. She slowly descended the steps, headed towards Witchcraft but unsure what she was going to say. As she neared Witchcraft, not looking at her, said abruptly, "You should leave."

"Oh?" Cataclysm said in surprise.

"Before the police get here," Witchcraft added.

"Oh," Cataclysm nodded. "Yeah, I guess so." She looked at the other woman but there seemed to be nothing else to say at the moment. She turned and started to climb the stairs.

"Cataclysm," Witchcraft said. Cataclysm stopped and turned. Witchcraft still wasn't looking at her. She said, "You were working undercover. Getting inside to help us take them down."

Cataclysm mulled that over. "Yeah, okay." After a moment she added, "Thanks."

Witchcraft didn't answer or move. Cataclysm turned away again and left the summoning chamber.


	30. Going Nuclear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the months since the battle in the back of the Great Beast Bookstore, Cataclysm has focused mostly on trying to track down Psychotic but with no real success. Psychotic's robots continue to raid technological targets such as Dynamic Technologies and the wreckage of a Qularr ship that had gone unnoticed in the Canadian wilderness, but the supervillain has remained out of sight.
> 
> Cataclysm and Witchcraft struggle to rebuild their relationship. Cataclysm is trying to figure out where her path in life lies. She pulls back from the Maniacs again, though makes it clear they can depend on her in an emergency. Pyro is out of prison but has stayed out of the gang. She is currently working as an auto mechanic and trying to go straight.

A streak of fire shot through the skies of Millennium City, headed west at a high rate of speed. Cataclysm poured fire out behind her trying to push every ounce of velocity out of herself as she sped towards Westside. The panicked call from Rid Len about "something" attacking the Maniacs, the sound of gunfire in the background, and the way the call suddenly ended contributed to her sense of urgency. She didn't know if this was a gang hit or something else but she wasn't going to do nothing while the Maniacs were in danger.

She saw a few curious onlookers gathered around the Maniac HQ watching the building. That might mean the cops were on their way, though this wasn't exactly a call-the-police kind of neighborhood. Nothing was happening on the street so she shot through the front door, currently torn off its hinges, and found herself on a battlefield.

Cataclysm could hear shouting and gunfire from further in the building. Here at the entrance were a half-dozen wounded Maniacs being attended to by Stiletto Conners, a woman with an exceptional talent with knives whether she was cutting a bullet out of a friend or a lung out of an enemy. Stiletto gave her a grateful look, jerked her head down the hall and got back to her surgery.

She headed down the corridor and saw a group of Maniacs barricaded at the door to a room, shooting at something inside. Rid Len spotted her and hurried over. "Thank god," he said.

"What the fuck is going on?" she demanded.

"I don't know. This...thing just burst in and started cutting us up. We drove it back into the kitchen but we can't kill it."

"Thing?" she asked in confusion. "What do you mean thing?"

He swallowed. "I don't know. It's this big metal...thing with claws and wings. I think it might be whatever you fought at the museum."

"Psychotic?" she said grimly.

"Yeah, that was the name. But why would it come here?"

Cataclysm didn't answer. She had never told them Psychotic's real identity. She moved up to the barricades and called for the Maniacs to stop shooting. It took a minute to get the gang to listen but finally the sound of gunfire stopped. Into the silence she called out, "Psychotic, I'm coming in."

"Cataclysm, is that you?" said a woman's voice from the other room cheerfully. "I'm so glad you got my invitation."

"Stay here," she said to Rid.

"Hey, I still run this gang," he said defiantly. "I'm coming with you."

She looked at him but knew he wouldn't listen. "Fine but stay out of it. This isn't about the Maniacs."

Cataclysm stepped over the furniture that had been pushed up to create crude cover for the gang. She cautiously entered the kitchen, looking carefully for booby traps or ambushes. The room was trashed and there were the bodies of several of Psychotic's robots here. The villain herself was waiting patiently, standing next to a large crate. Psychotic gave her a big grin, "Welcome to my little party, child."

Psychotic looked much the same as before but there was something new. Lines of energy snaked through her metal parts, like veins of shining blood. The color of the light reminded Cataclysm of the Lemurian artifact. Somehow, she surmised, Psychotic had found a way to infuse her cybernetics with Lemurian energy.

"What do you want?" Cataclysm demanded sharply.

"Want? Why I just wanted to drop off a little present to my old friends. Here let me unwrap it for you." She turned and with a slash of her claws she tore off the side of the crate revealing its contents. It was a cylindrical object, tapered at one end, but what really caught Cataclysm's attention was the black and yellow symbol on its side, the three wedges in a circle that warned of radioactivity.

Cataclysm turned back to Psychotic while her mind raced. Could it be fake, some kind of sick practical joke? Surely even this woman wasn't crazy enough to set off a nuclear bomb in the middle of the city. As she focused on Psychotic she realized the woman held a switch, a simple cylinder with a button on one end and a wire coming out the other that led to the bomb. Her thumb hovered over the trigger. Cataclysm heard Rid slowly whisper, "Fuck me."

"What do you want?" Cataclysm repeated, trying to keep her voice steady.

"I wanted to repay the people who betrayed me. And now all those people are right here. With a push of this button I clean the slate."

"Think about this," Cataclysm said slowly. "You may be tough in your metal pajamas, but even you can't survive a nuclear blast. This will kill you too."

Psychotic just cackled. "Fine. Let's all die together." Her thumb stabbed the button.

Cataclysm didn't even have time to shout a warning or lunge across the room. She watched helplessly as the world slipped into slow motion and she saw the button depress, even heard a little click as it made contact. She had heard your life flashed before your eyes when you faced death, but her mind simply froze.

And nothing happened.

The three of them stood unmoving. The world returned to its normal speed as three brains tried to make sense out of what just happened. Psychotic's grin faded and she turned her gaze to the button. "No," she said as she stabbed the button again. "No, no, no!" she shrieked, jamming her thumb against the trigger over and over.

The first thing Cataclysm thought was that she wasn't about to release a holocaust in a room with a nuclear bomb. "Failed again," she taunted Psychotic. "You can't manage to do anything right, can you?"

Psychotic dropped the button and extended her claws. "I can still kill you all the old fashioned way," she snarled.

"Come and get me, bitch," Cataclysm snarled and fled the room. "Move," she shouted to the Maniacs. "Get back, get back!" Frankly she wished they'd just run away but she knew they would stand and defend their headquarters. She just wanted room to work and was depending on Psychotic hating her more than the rest of the Maniacs.

She heard Psychotic shriek and come smashing through the doorway behind her. Cataclysm ran to the TV room, the most obvious large space in the headquarters. Some of the Maniacs followed her while others stood in confusion. Psychotic slashed a few as she passed but she was focused on only one prey.

When Cataclysm reached the TV room, she turned and summoned her fire shield as she waited for her pursuer to catch up. With a scream, Psychotic leapt upon her and tore at her with her claws. Cataclysm didn't need to search for anger this time. She let the fury bubble up and burst out of her, releasing a hellstorm into the room. She blasted Psychotic with a fireball, coating the villain in the Qliphothic energy that magnified her fire magic. Then she let loose with the most powerful spells she could muster.

Cataclysm's shield wore down and she felt Psychotic's claw start to tear into her. She embraced the pain, driving her anger to new levels, and the Fire Rift tore open. However to Cataclysm's surprise, Psychotic didn't fall when the white-hot flames shrieked around her. Unlike Menton and the Black Shepherd, Psychotic was built for physical confrontations. Cataclysm's response was just to amp up the power even further and finally Psychotic started to back off. Cataclysm slammed her with blasts of fire, trying to find the flesh beneath the metal, and it seemed to work. Psychotic seemed confused, not used to an opponent who could actually hurt her. She wrapped her wings around her to create a protective cocoon and started to head towards the door, but Rid had organized the Maniacs and Psychotic was met with a hail of gunfire. With nowhere to run she had to endure the fire until the damage was too much and she collapsed to the ground with a tremendous crash that caused the entire building to creak ominously.

Silence descended over the room. Slowly the combatants stood and gathered around the body of Psychotic. Rid turned to Cataclysm and said, "OK, what the fuck was that all about?"

Cataclysm wasn't sure what to say but her answer was interrupted when one of the Maniacs said, "She's still alive." Cataclysm looked down and could see Psychotic's chest rise and fall slowly.

"We can fix that," said Rid firmly, drawing his pistol and pointing it at Psychotic.

"No," said Cataclysm, putting her hand on his arm.

Rid lowered the gun but whirled on her angrily. "In case you've forgotten, that's how we do things in the Maniacs. Now get out of my way." He pushed her aside and raised the gun again.

Cataclysm knew she had to stop this. "It's Zoe," she blurted.

Rid turned to her, looking confused. "What?"

"It's Zoe," Cataclysm said distinctly, pointing at the body.

Rid slowly looked down at the villain lying on the ground. It took him a moment but finally his eyes widened. "Fuck me, it is," he breathed. "What the fuck happened to her?"

"I don't know," said Cataclysm. "I've been trying to find out."

He continued to stare at her but then shook his head. "Doesn't matter. She'd understand. This is how we deal with enemies of the Maniacs." Yet again he raised the gun.

"No," Cataclysm said forcefully, moving to stand between him and Psychotic. "Look, even if I was willing to stand by and let you murder her--and I'm not--what about the bomb?" She pointed towards the kitchen. "You expect me to let you keep that?"

He turned to look in the direction she was pointing. "You think that's real?" he asked after a moment.

"You want to take that chance? It's not the kind of thing we can just toss into a dumpster. Rid, I have to call people. People who can deal with shit like that. And people like her."

He turned back and their eyes met. She could see him struggling with it. Gently she said, "I figure you've got about five minutes, maybe ten, before this place is swarming with cops. Whatever you need, grab it and go."

Rid pursed his lips. "Shit," she sighed. "OK, you heard her," he bellowed to the Maniacs as he holstered his gun. "We are evacuating. Pack it all up." He turned back to her. "Thanks," he said before he joined the evacuation.


	31. To Shreds, You Say

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After Psychotic's arrest, the mountain of evidence plus Cataclysm's own willingness to testify makes her fate inevitable. She is kept in the Millennium City Jail pending her transfer to Stronghold. Some of her cybernetics such as her claws and wings have been removed, but the remaining systems are too well integrated into her biological systems. It would not be possible to remove them without risking the prisoner's life so she is kept in a reinforced cell. Psychotic's cybernetic enhancements are clearly top-shelf ARGENT work, never seen outside of their own operatives, but there is nothing linking her to them. They deny all knowledge and make no effort to help her, such as by funding her criminal defense. Zoe refuses to say anything relevant, speaking only to deliver bloodthirsty tirades on the vicious revenge she will take on her enemies, who appear to be pretty much everyone.
> 
> The Maniacs are torn about Cataclysm's testimony, since turning rat isn't normally considered acceptable, but Psychotic has become an enemy of the gang so they don't freeze Cataclysm out again. Things have thawed a bit between Cataclysm and Witchcraft. There are still problems, but it's mostly Cataclysm's own personality. She continues to suffer from PTSD after Menton and refuses to get help.

Cataclysm muted the TV in annoyance when she heard the knock at the door. She debated about ignoring it, since anyone she knew would have called first, but decided to see who it was. She opened the door and was surprised by who was standing in the hall. "Witchcraft," she said. "What are you doing here?"

"May I come in?" the woman asked hesitantly

"Yeah, sure." Cataclysm stood aside to let her in, studying her demeanor. Witchcraft looked worried. This didn't seem like good news. "Can I get you something to drink? Or I was about to make some supper. You want to send out for something?"

"No," Witchcraft said distantly. "Nothing for me. May I sit?"

"Of course," Cataclysm said, growing more concerned. "What's going on?"

The two women settled and Witchcraft seemed to be searching for words. "As you may know," she began, "prisoner transfers are not announced ahead of time. So I was not aware that Psychotic was being transferred to Stronghold today until just a short while ago."

"Okay," Cataclysm said, confused why Witchcraft was being so hesitant.

"She was loaded onto a Stronghold air transport early this morning along with two other superpowered prisoners, accompanied by agents from the U.S. Marshals Service. Everything seemed fairly routine, at least until the transport failed to check in with the tower in Topeka. Local law enforcement was alerted immediately and a police helicopter backtracked the flight. They found the craft had apparently made an emergency landing in a field."

"She got away?" Cataclysm asked incredulously.

Witchcraft put a hand up to silence her. "It's more complicated than that. You see the police found two aircraft in that field. The second was an ARGENT transport. It's unclear if the ARGENT craft attacked the Stronghold craft and forced them down or if they landed after the plane crashed for other reasons. When the police landed they saw that there had been a firefight, but again they are still trying to collect evidence about what happened."

Cataclysm tried to make sense out of what she was saying. "Wait, I'm confused. What did the marshals say? ARGENT? Surely someone is talking."

Witchcraft swallowed. "The police are unsure if there are any living witnesses."

Cataclysm blinked. "Unsure?"

"Yes. They believe everyone...nearly everyone...was killed but are having difficulty determining the number of dead. The phrase that stood out on the initial census of the bodies was 'torn to shreds'. They are, to be blunt, literally counting heads."

Cataclysm's mouth worked soundlessly for a moment. "And Zoe?"

Witchcraft sighed. "The one thing they definitely have _not_ found are any pieces of a cybernetically enhanced individual."

"Jesus fuck," Cataclysm breathed. "So a huge half-metal woman is roaming the wilds of Kansas tearing people to pieces and nobody has seen her?"

"Apparently not, though all local, state and federal authorities have been alerted as has the local media. She hasn't anywhere to go. They'll find her."

Cataclysm ran her hands through her spiky hair. "I should have killed her," she said. "Rid wanted to but I pulled him off. No, I said, we don't do that." She shook her head. "I should have killed her."

"No, Cataclysm," Witchcraft said quickly "It's not our place. It's not our decision to make."

Cataclysm leapt to her feet. "Should I go tell that to the families of those people she just slaughtered?" she demanded. "It _is_ our decision to make. We make that choice whether we choose to kill or not. And people suffer either way. She's a monster. Why shouldn't I kill her?

Witchcraft said, "Because that's why we have a legal system. To be fair we don't know she was responsible for those deaths."

"Don't hide behind technicalities," Cataclysm snarled. "I know of deaths she is responsible for. And there are more in her future. For fuck's sake the cops had her and she escaped _three times_. What kind of body count do we need before we decide it's the right thing to do? Those people are dead because I didn't do what needed to be done." She turned away, fists clenching at her sides.

Witchcraft rose and put her hand on Cataclysm's shoulder. Gently she said, "You can't blame yourself for what she did. These are her actions not yours. Don't sink to her level."

Cataclysm whirled on her. "Her level? I came from her level. You keep trying to elevate me but that's who I am. You said to me once that anything I did you would have to live with, remember that? Everything that happens from now on is my fault." Witchcraft tried to speak but Cataclysm said, "No. I've heard enough. I've done it your way. Repeatedly. It's time to remember who I am. I'm going to find her and this time I'm going to stop her."


	32. Shattered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cataclysm becomes obsessed with hunting down Psychotic. She chases her all over the world, breaking up one scheme after another but not facing her nemesis again. She makes a few deals with the devil along the way, most notably working with VIPER for several weeks. Psychotic had raided their labs so they were out to get her as well. She tells Witchcraft very little about the hunt. After all she's not planning to arrest Zoe this time.
> 
> She tracks Psychotic to a small island off the coast of Japan, an atoll dubbed Monster Island by the Japanese press. There the villain is building some kind of massive device. Cataclysm boards a plane and settles in for the journey. It's a long trip and after the first few hours she sinks into a light doze.

It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.

There was nothing but the throbbing pain. There was no sound, no vision, no other sensation but the constant beat-beat-beat of the agony pulsing through her body. She drifted in misery for countless time and there was nothing but the hurt, beating in her brain like the throbbing of the music in a hot, dark nightclub.

Suddenly sound broke through: movement, scraping rock, frantic voices. "She's here!...must be dead...so much blood...should her arm be...can't move her unless...how will we get her down to...never survive the trip..."

A deafening torrent of sound, a screaming white noise that blotted out anything else, a bellow like the roars of the monsters on the island, or possibly the sound of a heavy engine. The pain was more distant now but still her constant companion. It would never leave.

More voices, not so much frantic as focused and intense. "...or it'll sever her spine...lift on three...another unit of blood...coding again...can't find a clean vein...splint the bones but...just a medic, not a doctor...stabilize her for...never survive the trip..."

A low drone, a deep steady thrumming. Occasionally another sound would come through but mostly it was just the hum that was so steady she stopped hearing it. That left nothing but the pain.

A crash of new voices, strange sounds, clipped words, gibberish that didn't even sound like language. The alien voices chattered over her but eventually they left as well.

She was left in an absence of sound that was calm, soothing and lonely. Sometimes she could hear something else -- a snatch of music, a familiar voice, a blaring but faraway television, a woman crying -- but only briefly and the silence would return. Soon the silence and the darkness was all there was. And the pain. The pain was always there, its pulsing counting out her life like the ticking of a clock.

It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.

> _She was flying way too fast and her balance was thrown off by the heavy metal arm still clamped around her forearm. Rather than deftly snaking her way through the twisting tunnel she was clumsily ricocheting from wall to wall, smashing into the hard stone at every turn. Her body was bruised and aching but the panic was rising. In her head she imagined she could hear the beeping of the countdown clock and knew every tone could be her last second. She took one too many fast turns and her head slammed brutally into the wall. Her levitation spell crumbled in the wave of dizziness that overtook her and she crashed to the ground. "Get up," she berated herself mentally. She pushed herself to her hands and knees, shaking her head to clear it. Suddenly the earth shivered and she knew it was too late._

Cataclysm opened her eyes but all she could see was was a blur of light so bright it made no sense. Slowly her vision adjusted and the light became alternating bands of bright and dark. She continued to stare, her brain trying to interpret what she saw, and after a long time it came into focus: a window, partially-open vertical blinds, a blue sky above the top of a building.

She moved her eyes. The window was in a wall. A beige wall. She moved her eyes more. Her head was resting in whiteness. A pillow. A sheet. Both white. The white ended in more beige, a textured plastic rail at the side of the bed. Beyond the rail was...she struggled to process the object. A table. With a phone.

None of this told her much. Cataclysm tried to raise her head but her muscles objected, saying it was too much trouble. "Shit," she mumbled thickly.

She heard a sudden intake of breath, the scrape of a chair, the rustle of clothes and then a face blocked out the light from the window. "Cataclysm?" said the face. "You're awake! My god, you're awake! Cataclysm, can you hear me?"

Cataclysm stared at the face, her sluggish mind taking long seconds to make sense of it. For some reason the features wouldn't coalesce at first but slowly she connected it with a memory. She furrowed her brow and croaked, "Pyro?"

"Yeah," said Pyro, bursting into tears. "Yeah it's me." She leaned forward and grabbed Cataclysm in a tight hug, burying her face against her neck.

A dull ache shot through her. "Ow," said Cataclysm.

"Sorry, sorry," said Pyro, quickly releasing her and pulling back. "Oh my god I can't believe it. You're awake!"

Tears continued to stream down Pyro's face. Reflexively Cataclysm snorted weakly and teased, "Girl."

Pyro laughed self-consciously. "I know, right?" she said as she hastily wiped her face. "How are you feeling?"

That was an easy question but it still took Cataclysm long seconds to frame her answer. "Tired."

"Yeah, I'll bet. They've got you pumped full of some pretty primo shit. I've been tempted to take a sip off your IV," she grinned.

Cataclysm's mind continued to chug along but nothing made sense. "Where...?" she began but it was too exhausting to finish the sentence. It was enough for Pyro to figure out her meaning though.

"You're back home," Pyro said. "In Millennium City. Mercy Hospital. They sent you here about a week ago. Before that you were in a hospital in Japan for..." She broke off and swallowed before continuing, "...a really long time. Me and the other Maniacs been taking turns here, hoping you'd wake up."

That made even less sense. "What?" said Cataclysm.

Pyro shrugged. "I'm not sure what happened. Not the whole story. Witchcraft said you were in an accident. She wouldn't say much about it, just some kind of accident or something."

The more Pyro talked the more confused Cataclysm got. The words made sense but they were strung together in strange patterns. "Witchcraft?"

Pyro looked a little embarrassed. "Yeah. She found me after you...got hurt. Said she knew we were friends. Heh, she even offered to fly me to Japan. But, you know, with my record no country wants to let me in. But she kept me posted. Texted and emailed me every couple days. Let me know how you were doing." Pyro suddenly looked stricken. "Oh shit, she'll want to know you're awake." She pulled out her phone, started tapping the screen and then she stopped. "Wait, maybe I should get a doctor." She started to step away and froze again. "Or maybe I should..."

While Pyro dithered, Cataclysm slipped back into sleep.

> _She tried to see through the oily, black smoke that stung her eyes. She drive her burning hand into Psychotic's shoulder, looking for the point where metal joined bone. She stabbed stiffened fingers against Psychotic's clavicle trying to splinter the weakened bone, ignoring the pain as she smashed against the hard surface. Her other hand had gone totally numb. She coughed and gagged at the smell and pointedly ignored the insistent beeping. She pulled at the metal arm with all her strength but it wouldn't come free._

The next time Cataclysm woke up she was disappointed to see the window was gone. That confused her. It took her a few seconds to realize she was lying on her other side, the light streaming in from behind her. Now she could see a different beige wall, this one with a whiteboard that contained her name, her real name that nobody called her, her room number and, according to the whiteboard, the name of her nurse. By her bed was a metal pole with some kind of boxy machine that was clicking industriously.

A woman sat in a chair below the whiteboard, sketching idly on a pad. Cataclysm's mind was clearer this time so she recognized the woman immediately, even though she wasn't in her usual costume. "Hey," she said roughly.

Witchcraft startled and her head jerked up. Her face blossomed into a smile and she dropped the sketchpad and pencil to the floor. She quickly moved over to kneel next to the bed and put out a hand to touch Cataclysm's arm. "Hey yourself," Witchcraft said, her eyes filling with tears.

"Everybody cries," Cataclysm said. "Must look awful."

Witchcraft grinned. "Yes, you are a little scarier than usual."

"Maybe I'll keep the look."

"No, sorry, no," she said firmly. "I think we all agree that nobody wants to see you like this anymore. How are you feeling?"

"Better," Cataclysm said. "Tired but not so loopy."

Witchcraft nodded. "They dialed down your painkillers after Pyro said you woke up. Are you in pain?"

Cataclysm shrugged. "A little but I'm tough."

"We can have them tweak up your...oh, that reminds me." She reached up to fiddle with something over Cataclysm's head. After a second a voice came over a speaker saying, "Yes?"

"Lori is awake," Witchcraft said to the voice. "Is there a doctor around?"

"I'll see who's available."

"Thank you."

> _Psychotic's arm tore away, trailing chunks of bloody flesh with it. She didn't bother looking at the clock. She triggered her levitation spell and rocketed towards the exit._

Cataclysm was suddenly aware the inside of her mouth felt like sandpaper. "Water?" she asked.

Witchcraft quickly reached for a plastic cup on the table next to the bed. She offered the cup's straw to Cataclysm, saying, "Here you go. Just drink a little."

Cataclysm drank a couple of sips of the water and then pulled away. She swished the last bit around her mouth before swallowing. She watched Witchcraft as she put the cup back on the desk. When the woman turned back Cataclysm said, "So, uh, what's going on?"

Witchcraft took a breath. "Kind of a long story," she said. She got up to drag the chair over. "How much do you remember?" she asked.

Cataclysm thought about it. Although her thoughts weren't as muddled as before, her memories were still a little sketchy. "I remember talking to Pyro but I assume you mean before that." She mulled that over and said. "Lots of disjointed images. The last thing I really remember is I was on a plane. Going to Monster Island." She furrowed her brow. "Did the plane crash?"

"No you got to Monster Island safely," Witchcraft said. "You hunted down Psychotic and faced her. And defeated her." She paused. "And that's where things get a bit confused. There were two heroes being held prisoner by Psychotic: Rocket Hawk and Lady Rocket Hawk. Do you remember them?" Cataclysm shook her head. Witchcraft said, "Rocket Hawk has been very forthcoming with information on the incident but his descriptions are...colorful."

> _"All clear! You gonna start helpin' me, or do I gotta take down Psychotic myself?"_
> 
> _She shook her head. This idiot was worse then Defender._

Cataclysm wrinkled her nose. "I think I might remember him. Powered armor?" Witchcraft nodded and Cataclysm made a disgusted noise.

Witchcraft continued. "He told us that after he defeated...um, after Psychotic fell you were kneeling next to her and the two of you were talking. He couldn't hear what was being said but suddenly you turned, shouted it was a trap and told them to get out. They did. You didn't. He says after they exited the underground complex there was a tremor, which he assumed was a seismic event since they are common to the island. The entire complex collapsed with you inside.

"They called for help from Bureau 17. Luckily there was a hero in the area who could see through rock. They were able to find you, dig you out and transport you to the Bureau 17 base. They stabilized you and sent you to the nearest hospital which was in Japan. You were there for several weeks until you were brought home nine days ago."

Cataclysm took some time to process all that information. "How long have I been out?"

Witchcraft paused and said, "A little over two months."

"Wow. Lazy."

Witchcraft gave her a lopsided smile and continued. "It wasn't until later that investigators realized the tremor wasn't from an seismic event. It was from a bomb. Apparently Psychotic set off a low-yield nuclear device."

> _She pulled as hard she she could but she couldn't break Psychotic's metal grip. Her hand was turning purple and starting to throb with pain. Psychotic tore back her shirt to reveal a clock with a bright red LED display set in her abdomen. "It starts counting down when I die," she chuckled. "They weren't able to pack much fissionable material into me but they said it should still pulverize anyone within a few hundred feet."_

Cataclysm raised her eyebrows. "I was in nuclear explosion?" Witchcraft nodded. Cataclysm added, "Cool. I wonder if I'll get superpowers."

Witchcraft smiled warmly and reached out to squeeze her shoulder. "God I've missed you," she said. She wiped away a tear and got back to her story. "It appears that Psychotic's entire plan was to kill you. Examination of the stone showed it had been precut in a number of places. The complex was built to collapse. The whole setup was a deathtrap. For you."

"I'm flattered."

Witchcraft didn't appreciate that joke as much as the last. She pursed her lips and said, "I wish you'd told me what you were up to. Things might have turned out better."

"Or worse. Gotten a bunch of people killed."

Witchcraft opened her mouth and then closed it. "Well, I guess it's not really the time for that conversation."

> _She walked over and knelt down next to Psychotic. The villain smiled weakly at her and said, "Volcano lair, doomsday device, giant monster, epic final battle. It was a good game, firefly, wasn't it?"_
> 
> _"Sure, Zoe," she said reluctantly. "A good game."_
> 
> _"Just one cliché left," Psychotic said. Her hand shot out and clamped painfully around the other woman's forearm. "The deathtrap."_

"What about Psychotic?" Cataclysm asked.

Witchcraft looked at her somberly. "It appears she was at or near ground zero. She couldn't possibly have survived. There was no body, but investigators found pieces of her cybernetics and DNA traces. I've done my own investigations and the soul of Zoe Loft is not on this plane." She added sternly, "It seems you got what you wanted."

"Good," said Cataclysm. Witchcraft shot her a look but Cataclysm changed the subject by saying, "Thanks. For telling Pyro."

It took Witchcraft a moment to change mental gears. "Oh, well, I knew you were friends so it seemed only right. I figured she could let your other friends know."

Cataclysm said, "So, you two pals now?"

Witchcraft squirmed and said, "Well...um...she's very...um..." She broke off when she saw Cataclysm's smirk. Witchcraft shook her head. "You do like making people uncomfortable, don't you?"

"I really do."

"Well then you'll be happy to know that even unconscious you were an extremely uncooperative patient."

Cataclysm grinned. "Good for me. What did I do?"

"You kept making the doctors look foolish. Refused to live up to their dire predictions."

"What kind of predictions?"

With brittle cheerfulness Witchcraft said, "Oh, you know. You wouldn't survive the day. The week. The month. You'd lose various limbs. You'd never wake up. You'd wake up but not be able to speak. You know the usual thing doctors do."

Cataclysm laboriously lifted her hands to look at them. They were pale and skinny and one had an IV sticking out of the back of it, but they were still there. She wiggled her toes and wasn't sure she could feel them or not. "Everything still attached?" she asked.

"Well, mostly."

"Mostly?" she asked with a little concern.

"I hope you weren't too fond of your spleen," Witchcraft said with mock gravity.

"Aw, that was my best feature. No tits to speak of, but I jiggle my spleen in a guy's face and he's all over me."

"Well, I'm afraid you'll have to find other ways to attract men."

Cataclysm's smile faded a little as she said, "Anything else?"

"Not much. You were very lucky. Three toes on your right foot. A couple feet of intestine. A few other little internal bits and pieces. Lots of terribly interesting scars. And you won't make it through a metal detector any time soon."

Cataclysm's smile fled completely. "Cybernetics?" she asked gravely.

"No, just lots of screws and plates and such."

Relieved she said, "Good. I hate cyborgs."

"They aren't all like Psychotic," Witchcraft reminded her. Cataclysm just snorted.

They were interrupted by the nurse's voice over the intercom saying, "Dr. Norman will be in to see you in a few minutes."

"Okay, thank you," said Witchcraft. Cataclysm yawned and felt her eyes closing. Witchcraft said, "You should sleep. Around here a 'few minutes' generally means an hour or two."

"No," Cataclysm said keeping her eyes closed. "Slept too much already. Just resting my eyes."

> _She frantically tried to burn through Psychotic's arm but even her flame wasn't hot enough to penetrate the hardened metal. Psychotic suddenly reached up with her other arm, grabbed her shoulder and pulled up off the floor until their faces were very close. Looking into her eyes, Psychotic said, "Nobody gets in Menton's way and lives. Nobody!" Then she relaxed and fell back to the floor. Her eyes closed and the clock in her abdomen started to count down, each second marked by a loud beep._

Cataclysm's eyes flew open. "Menton," she said.

Witchcraft looked at her in confusion. "What?"

"Zoe said Menton. Before she died. She said Menton."

"Are you sure?" Witchcraft asked in alarm.

Cataclysm shook her head. "I'm getting fragments of memory. Might have been a dream."

Witchcraft pursed her lips. "If Menton is still manipulating events from his Hot Sleep cell..." She paused, looked at the door, and then looked back.

"Go," said Cataclysm.

"Well, I don't want to leave you if-"

"Go," said Cataclysm more forcefully. "It's a hospital. I'm pretty sure there are people here to keep an eye on me."

"Well, I guess," she said reluctantly, "I'll call Pyro and have someone come sit with you." She stood, bent to give Cataclysm a clumsy hug. "I'll be back soon," she said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent a lot of time debating about the big fight with Psychotic. The important part of the chapter is the aftermath, the conversation with Zoe and the deathtrap. On the one hand I hate writing fight scenes. It's hard to make them something more than "bam, bam, bam, bam", especially with someone like Zoe who's going to be clever and have traps and so on. And yet the idea of NOT having an epic fight with her nemesis seemed ridiculous.
> 
> After spending weeks agonizing over this I finally realized something important: she won't remember it. From her point of view she' s on the plane and then she's in the hospital. By taking out that scene the reader experiences her disorientation. Yay, I get out of writing a chapter I didn't want to and it even makes it a better story.
> 
> Did you know the smallest nuke ever deployed by the U.S. was a projectile for the Davy Crockett tactical nuclear recoilless gun? The round was 31 inches long and 11 inches in diameter with a yield of 10 to 20 tons; as a frame of reference the Oklahoma City bomb had about 5 tons of force. So arguably you could create a very small nuclear bomb that just might fit in a human torso, especially in a big girl like Zoe.


	33. Hospital Impatient

"You are far too weak right now," the doctor said. "We need to give your bones more time to heal. I'd say you can start physical therapy in three months or so."

"Fuck that," snapped Cataclysm. She was sitting up in the hospital bed, her face pale and her eyes marred by dark circles. Her hair was short; she had learned that it all fell out shortly after the bomb blast. Her voice was feeble but still carried steel as she said, "I'm sick of you telling me I'm too weak for everything. I'm too weak for PT. I'm too weak for surgery to get all this metal out of me. I'm too weak to get out of bed. I'm to weak to feed myself. For fuck's sake I practically had to punch a nurse to stop her from trying to feed me through this." She waved derisively at the yellow NG tube taped to her cheek and running into her left nostril.

The doctor adjusted his glasses as he said, "I appreciate your frustration but your body has been through a great trauma. We have to give you time to get stronger so-

"Well, I'm not getting stronger lying in bed!" Cataclysm saw Witchcraft poke her head through the door and waved her in as she continued. Witchcraft was, of course, in her street clothes as she had been during all her visits. "Look, I'm fucking sick of your excuses. I'm not going to lie around doing nothing because you haven't got the balls to make a decision or you're afraid of getting sued. I'm going to start exercising. Today. Which is going to be safer: exercising on my own or working with a PT?"

The doctor's face clouded. "I can't in good conscience-"

"I don't care about your fucking conscience." Her shoulders drooped as her energy flagged. She waved him off and said, "Go away. I'm tired of you." The doctor pursed his lips and then turned and walk stiffly out of the room. "And get me a fucking PT!" she called after him.

Witchcraft had watched the exchange impassively. "Making friends as usual, I see," she said dryly as she crossed over to take a seat next to Cataclysm's bed.

"Idiot doctors keep trying to keep me sick. It's a fucked up system. They make more money the longer they make me stay here. All they do is..." She trailed off, panting.

Witchcraft looked concerned. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Cataclysm said, catching her breath. "Yelling at doctors is part of my cardio workout." She took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. "Sick of how fucking weak I am. Can't even eat a whole pudding cup without my arm getting exhausted. Look at this," she held up an emaciated arm in front of Witchcraft. "I'd have to put on twenty pounds to be considered 'skin and bones'. For fuck's sake, have they even been feeding me? And I can't believe that with all the medical technology we have, we still haven't figured out something less humiliating than the bedpan." Cataclysm rubbed her eyes tiredly. "Sorry. More bitchy than usual."

"It's OK. You've earned it," Witchcraft said, reaching out to pat her arm. "You certainly seem to have more energy than when I last saw you a few days ago."

Cataclysm snorted. "Yeah I guess. I still sleep about sixteen hours a day. I keep telling them to cut back on my meds. Jesus, you'd think it would be _easy_ to get less painkillers but the nurses won't blink without some doctor's order and the doctors want to keep me drugged up. Probably so I won't yell at them."

Witchcraft furrowed her brow. "Do you really think so? Because that would be a serious ethics violation."

"Huh?" Cataclysm asked in surprise. "Oh, well, no not really. It just takes fucking forever to get anything done around here. I'm sick of lying in bed. You never realize just how crappy television is until you have nothing to do but watch it all day." She stretched her neck to work out a kink. "Don't you know anyone who can speed this up? Some healer who can do little oogity-boogity and I'm back to normal?"

"Well in fact we brought in some of the best magical healers I could find while you were in Tokyo. That may well be why you recovered at all. I decided to stop that after your transfer here. I'm concerned that, especially here on your home turf, their involvement might bring you unwanted attention. Of course now that you are awake, the decision is up to you."

Cataclysm considered that but her mind was still fuzzy and she couldn't figure it out. "Shit," she said in frustration. "Fine, if you say so. I'm having trouble making decisions. And remembering. And a few other things. My brain got pretty squished. The neurosurgeon is less of a dick than that guy. He's about the only doctor I don't want to kick in the nuts. He's utterly fascinated that I'm not a vegetable, but not like that's an insult to him. He's talking about bringing in a whole flock of neuro-something-or-others to study me. The parade of other doctors tell me all kinds of shit. My lungs are shot. My blood chemistry is off. I might get blood clots that could kill me or cause brain damage. My bone density is low because I've been on my ass for so long and they apparently haven't been feeding me enough calcium so my bones might break for pretty much no reason. Basically as near as I can tell, everybody figured I was going to die so gave me the bare minimum care. You know the 'make her comfortable' shit. Unfortunately I was rude enough to survive so now they are scrambling to fix the effects of weeks of neglect. And, hey, you remember that funny, funny joke I make about radiation giving me superpowers? Well it turns out that radiation really just gives you cancer. There's nothing now but the oncologist is this perky little bimbo I just want to slap every time she opens her cheerful little mouth to tell me that it's very possible I won't die of leukemia or some massive brain tumor over the next ten years." Cataclysm's voice had become increasingly rough during her rant and she finally trailed off as she ran out of breath again.

Witchcraft had listened to her tirade with increasing concern. "Don't overexert yourself," she said. "And don't let their negativity get you down. Attitude is a very important part of patient recovery. If you let them convince you that things are hopeless then your body will follow suit."

Cataclysm snorted. "Don't worry about that. I'm not going to shrivel up and die. I'm going to get better just so I can come back and spit in the eyes of these arrogant prick doctors."

Witchcraft smiled warmly at her. "Now that's more like it."

Cataclysm looked gloomily at the pole next to her that held an IV bag, vital sign monitors and a PCA machine. "Of course I also thought the other day that this hospital is pretty much going to own me after this. I can't even imagine how much this is all going to cost. It's not like I have a real job with health insurance."

"Oh don't worry about that," Witchcraft said dismissively. "You are under the super-secret Champions Health Plan. Anyone who nearly dies while defeating a supervillain with a city-destroying weapon aimed at Millennium City gets free medical care."

Cataclysm frowned. She didn't like charity and wanted to refuse the offer, but it's not like she could really pay for this. It wouldn't surprise her to find out her bill was well into seven figures. Even Harmon Industries would feel an expense like that. "Not sure how I feel about that," she admitted and then added, "but, well, thanks." Wanting a change in subject she said, "OK, enough self-pity from me. Tell me about anything at all as long as it's happening outside the hospital."

"Well, part of the reason I came by was to tell you about my investigations into Menton. Unless you'd rather talk about something more trivial."

"No, no, I want to hear this," Cataclysm said, sitting up a little straighter in bed.

Witchcraft took a moment to compose her thoughts. "I consulted Lieutenant Maronni as well as other experts on Menton and told them what you said. Investigating Menton is always difficult because you don't so much see his actions as the subtle ripples of his influence. However once we looked at him and Psychotic and ARGENT all together it started to make sense. It's like looking at three patterns that seem like random noise but when you superimpose them on each other, they form a picture. A lot of this is supposition of course, but this is our best guess.

"We think Psychotic was Menton's doomsday device. After you foiled his plans at ARGENT he started planning how best to destroy you, eventually luring you down to Stronghold, probably by directly influencing Lieutenant Maronni and others. Now Menton is arrogant enough to believe he couldn't be beaten, but he's also careful enough to have a backup plan just in case.

"So he looked around and found a mind that saw you as an enemy: Zoe Loft. He already had his mental tendrils in ARGENT so he gave them a little nudge and suddenly they thought it would be a great idea to take this street thug and tech her up into a powerful cyborg. He probably fed her anger towards you, pushing her over to obsessive levels. He kept her under control but once he was put into Hot Sleep, his control weakened and she was freed to do what she wanted. And all she wanted was to kill you. Everything she did after her transformation into Psychotic was planned around that."

"But you don't think he's still arranging things?" Cataclysm asked.

Witchcraft looked uncertain. "Well that's one area where Lieutenant Maronni and I differ in opinion. She believes that Menton was not controlling Psychotic. Her methods were far too blunt and violent. He is a subtle manipulator. He wants to control the world, not destroy it."

"You don't agree?"

"Well, up to a point," Witchcraft hedged. "I see her point about Psychotic. I suppose I agree that he might not have as much control over his victims as before but I believe if you look at all events he seems to still have some influence."

Cataclysm was puzzled. "Events? Like what?"

Uncomfortably, Witchcraft said, "Like some of your behaviors since the Stronghold breakout. Like the DEMON incident. I think perhaps he pushed you into acting out of character."

Cataclysm was silent for a moment and then rolled her eyes. "Really? I can start blaming Menton for everything now?" she said sarcastically. "If I cheat on my taxes I can say Menton made me do it?"

"The IRS has probably heard that excuse before," Witchcraft said lightly.

Cataclysm couldn't help giving a heavy sigh. "Beth, you have got to start accepting me for who I am rather than some fantasy ideal. DEMON may not have been my proudest moment but that was all me. That has roots back in shit long before I met Menton or even you." She shook her head. "Honestly, it borders on insulting. Every time you try to make me into Little Miss Hero you are sending the message that the real me isn't good enough."

Witchcraft looked stunned. "No, that's not at all what I think."

"Maybe but that's how it feels sometimes. Look, you've known me long enough to start seeing the real me, warts and all. I don't apologize for my existence but you make me feel like I should."

Witchcraft reached out to squeeze her hand. "I'm sorry, Cataclysm. I never meant it like that. I just believe in seeing the positive in people."

"Fine, but that doesn't mean you should ignore the rest. You don't get to pick and choose which parts of me you get. You have to take the whole package." Cataclysm could hear the irritation growing in her voice so forced her anger down and said in a teasing tone, "You're tough. I'm pretty sure you can handle the real me."

Witchcraft gave her a little smile. "OK, I'll take off the rose-colored glasses. But I'm never going to stop believing in the best in you."

"Your most endearing and annoying feature," Cataclysm said.

* * *

Drops of sweat ran down Cataclysm's face as she labored to lift the heavy weight. She gritted her teeth as her arm slowly rose under the load, and hissed her breath out as she lowered it. She grunted as she struggled to do another rep. If she could finish fifteen reps then tomorrow she'd try it with _ten_ ounces of water in the bottle.

A muscular black man came into the room and glanced down at his clipboard. "Lori Jett?" he asked in a smooth baritone.

She'd gotten used to them calling her that, though she still didn't like using the name. "Yeah," she grunted.

"I'm Alan," he said cheerfully. "I'm your physical therapist."

"Hey," she said, continuing to exercise.

He watched her critically and then said, "You need to stop doing that."

"I can work and listen," she said, her voice strained as she slowly raised the water bottle.

He pursed his lips. "You're doing it wrong. Your form is lousy. You're exercising the wrong muscles. Most importantly you aren't protecting the joint. Can you feel your elbow slip?"

She paused in her exercise and looked up at him. "The left one sometimes," she admitted.

"You're going to damage the joint. Now put that down before you cause yourself permanent injury."

She hesitated but then put the water bottle down on the table next to the bed, her arm shaking with the effort. "Fine, then teach me the right way to do it."

"In time," he began.

"No," she interrupted. "I'm sick of everyone telling me to wait."

He sat down and said, "OK, I understand how frustrating this is for you. They told me you are highly motivated and that's great. Makes my job easier."

"Motivated," she snorted. "I'll bet that's not the word they used."

"Not exactly," he said with a twinkle in his eye. He continued, "Motivation is important but over-motivation is bad. Your body has been through a lot and it's going to take a long time to fix it. I'm not going to lie. It's going to be hard, the hardest thing you've ever done. But there are no shortcuts. You can't do all the work into one day like you are cramming for your college finals. This is a marathon, not a sprint. You are going to have to work every day for months, maybe years, but if you can do that, if you can maintain your motivation that long, then I'll get you back on your feet."

She chewed on her lip. "You're saying I'll walk? Because the doctors keep telling me I won't."

Alan shrugged. "I think it's a possibility, and if not then I'm certain you'll have some kind of independent mobility. You have to understand that doctors are in general too negative. Of course we therapists are too positive. The reality is usually somewhere in the middle. The one who really has to decide what's going to happen is you. If we're going to do this then I need your help. I'm not looking for a patient. I want a partner. What I bring is knowledge and experience about body mechanics, muscle performance and neuromotor development. What you bring is knowledge of this particular body," he pointed to her. "That body is unlike any other. You know how you move, how you think, what motivates you, and when you hurt. When we bring two experts like us together, nobody's going to stop us."

Cataclysm studied him for a moment and then nodded. "OK, so what do we do now?"

"Today I'm going to evaluate you. I know you want to work, but this is how the work starts. I have to put together a program that's right for you." He said sternly, "Now I know you have your opinions but I have three rules that are not negotiable.

"First, listen to your body. If it hurts you stop. And don't say, 'No pain, no gain.' That's garbage pushed by macho jerks who want to prove how tough they are. Don't get me wrong, when I work with you I'm going to hurt you but I know what kind of pain is safe and what kind is not. When you are working on your own, you stop when it hurts.

"Second, I'll give you activities to do on your own. You do exactly what I tell you, unless it hurts. If I say do ten reps, you do ten. Not nine. Not eleven. If I say ten, I say it for a reason. This is not some photocopied set of exercises I give to everyone. This is a customized program for you.

"Third, and this is the big one. You do _not_ get out of this bed until I tell you it's OK. I've worked with people as compromised as you are and they all want to walk. Right away. Specifically they want to walk to the toilet and pee by themselves. Great. I want you to walk too. It's not healthy to lay around. But walking is hard. We forget that before we learned to walk we learned a lot of other skills. We are going to work on your core, your arm and leg strength, your balance and a few other things first. Only then will you be ready to walk." He shook his finger at her and said sharply, "You get out of bed before I say you are ready, I will come over here and kick your ass."

She snorted. "You'll try. I'm pretty sure I could take you, even like this."

He grinned and said, "Maybe." He gave her a more serious look and said, "But I'm not kidding. I'll say it again: if you injure yourself, you just set your recovery back. Got it?"

Cataclysm looked at him for a bit and then nodded. "All right. We'll try it your way. For now."

"Great," he said with a big smile. "Let's get started."

* * *

Cataclysm leaned into the gait trainer as she laboriously hauled her right leg forward. "You don't walk with your arms," Alan chided her. She growled and shifted her body so most of her weight was on her left leg, using the walking frame for balance. She resumed her effort to move her right foot, finally managing to get it a few inches ahead of her left. "Seven," Alan said.

She stopped to rest, panting and sweating. "Come on, you wimp," he teased. "I've got people in their eighties who move faster than you do. Move it, slacker."

Cataclysm shot him a look but didn't waste breath on a comment. She shifted her weight to her right leg and started the arduous task of moving the other foot forward. Her left leg was weaker, having been more damaged than her right, and she couldn't even lift it all the way off the ground especially with the weight of the ankle braces. She dragged the toe of her shoe along the floor as she moved it, groaning as she fought to push it forward. Slowly it moved and she put it back on the floor. She started to shift her weight but Alan called out, "Cheater, cheater." She looked down and realized her left foot was still behind the right.

She got out, "Bastard," but pushed her left foot forward a couple more inches until the toes were just head of the other foot.

"Eight," Alan granted her. "Come on now, I haven't got all day. Let's go!" Cataclysm brought her right foot forward and he said, "Nine." A wave of dizziness took her and she swayed. The two techs standing nearby reached out to steady her and Alan dropped his gruff act and rushed forward. "OK, that's enough for today."

"No," she growled. "Ten." He gave her a sour look and she insisted, "Ten!"

"Fine, one more but that's it."

She regained her balance and the techs let her go. Using the gait trainer to steady herself she lifted her left leg as best she could and slid her foot forward. She inched it forward -- more like millimetered it forward -- but refused to give up. Finally she got it a hair ahead of her right foot and set it down. "Ten!" Alan said with a huge smile. One of the techs pushed her wheelchair up to her legs and while the other unstrapped her from the gait trainer. They transferred her to the wheelchair.

"Double digits!" Alan said proudly. "Good job. Of course that means at least eleven tomorrow."

"Fifteen," she said before she gulped water from the bottle one of the techs gave her.

"Careful," he cautioned. "Remember, too much motivation is bad. We'll shoot for eleven. Maybe twelve. For now let's strap you in the stander and we can work on some upper body exercises."

She nodded and he wheeled her over to the table.

* * *

Alan wheeled her down the ramp and out to the curb. Cataclysm inhaled the fresh air deeply. It's not like this was the first time she had been outside of the hospital during her long convalescence, but now she was finally going home. She'd never liked being cooped up and the hospital had been like...well, not like jail because she knew how that really felt, but certainly she was glad to finally be free of the place.

He set the wheelchair brake and then settled down on a bench next to her while they waited for Pyro to pull the car around. "Glad to be going home?" he asked.

"Not as glad as the staff is," she mused. They had cheered her as Alan had rolled her down the corridor but she suspected they were simply glad they weren't going to have to deal with her any more.

He chuckled. "They'll certainly be telling stories about you for a long time. I know I will. Honestly, I never expected you to come along so far. I'm really proud of you. I'm going to be using your story to inspire people."

Cataclysm snorted, embarrassed, and said, "Nah, use me to scare people. Like, if you aren't good we'll have the mean zombie lady shuffle after you."

"That works, too," he grinned. His smiled faded and he shifted uncomfortably. "So, I was wondering. What's your schedule like over the next few days. I know you have a lot going on, transitioning to being out of the hospital, but I thought maybe we could get together."

Cataclysm was confused. Her brain was still just a little sluggish so sometimes she had trouble following conversations. "I thought I was changing to another PT. Barb something."

"Uh, no," he said. "I mean socially. You know, like a date."

She was taken aback and just said, "Oh."

He looked a little self-conscious and said, "Well, that look of horror sort of gives me my answer."

"What? Oh, no," she said quickly with a little laugh. "No, it just that you took me by surprise. I haven't gotten any vibe like that at all from you up until now."

"Well, when your job is to put your hands on people you have to be very careful about stuff like flirting. I had to wait until we had no more professional relationship. But, hey, if you're not interested then no big."

Cataclysm was struggling to adjust to the abrupt change in the conversation. "No, it’s not that. I just...My life is kind of complicated. I don't really have room for anyone in it."

"OK, I understand," he said.

She hadn't thought about him like that until now. The idea certainly had its appeal but she dismissed it. "Seriously, it's not lack of interest," she said and then shrugged, "but then again doesn't everyone fall for their PTs?"

"Oh, hell no," he laughed. "They fall for their doctors. They hate us PTs. Doctors give you drugs and make you feel better. We hurt you and make you work."

"Well, I certainly don't hate you. I like people who push me. But, well, like I said. Just bad timing."

"All right. If the timing gets better," he waved to indicate the hospital, "you know where to find me."

"I'll keep that in mind," she said. After a hesitation she reached out to touch his arm. "Um, thanks. I mean, well, it's been kind of a long time since a guy's shown any interest."

"I find that hard to believe."

She snorted. "It shouldn't be. Most guys want wimpy chicks looking for Prince Charming. They don't like women who can stand up for themselves."

"Well, then maybe you just need to find stronger men."

They looked into each other's eyes and Cataclysm felt her heart racing. She looked up and said, "Oh, here comes Pyro."

Alan looked over and saw the car approaching. Pyro pulled up next to them and Cataclysm got to her feet. She opened the door and Alan reached out to help her. She slapped his hand and growled, "Stop that." He grinned and pulled his hands away, letting her get into the car by herself.

He handed her little bag of possessions through the window and said, "Well, good luck. You're going to do fine. I think you'll like Barb. I've never met her but I know her reputation. She's one of the best in the city." He paused and his eyes twinkled. "They say she consults with L’Institut Thoth. Treats a lot of metahumans."

Cataclysm raised her eyebrows. "Really? Cool. Maybe I'll meet someone famous."

He stepped back from the car and waved goodbye. She waved back and Pyro drove off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should say that Cataclysm's attitude towards the medical profession is (mostly) not shared by me. I've certainly met doctors and nurses like this, but they are the exception. Cataclysm's just crotchety.
> 
> I have a niece with extensive disabilities, including cerebral palsy, so a lot of this is based on the kind of PT and hospital stays she's had. I also have a friend who was nearly killed in a motorcycle accident -- he's the poster child for safety equipment -- so I based some of that on his recovery. Finally, I live in Arizona and I originally wrote this chapter when we were hearing a lot about the rehabilitation of Gabby Giffords, the congresswoman who was shot through the head in 2011. I merged all three of those to give me an idea of what this kind of recovery would be like.
> 
> The "doctors too negative, PTs too positive" comment is from one of my niece's PTs.


	34. The Apocalypse, Take One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was four months of grueling therapy before Cataclysm became independent again, and another ten months before she was back to fighting fit. Her recovery was complicated by a brief stint in rehab after she got addicted to pain medications. She observed bitterly that after years of avoiding street drugs as part of the Maniacs she ended up hooked on prescriptions.
> 
> Over the last couple of years she's focused mostly on keeping Millennium City safe, though has also taken missions all over the world. Her relationship with authorities ranging from MCPD to UNTIL remain strained but they've reached a sort of détente. She's tried to stay on the right side of things but has worked with a few groups that Witchcraft is better off not knowing about. Most recently she helped defend the city against the forces of Takofanes during the Blood Moon by bringing the leaders of the Westside gangs together in a brief truce.

Cataclysm grimaced as she pushed her way through the crowd at Club Caprice. It wasn't her kind of place. She preferred the seedy dives in Westside to these kinds of flashy clubs, and darker, grittier music to the bright, danceable beats coming from the other room. However it was one of the few places she could go in costume and, even after all these years out of the gang, she still felt like herself only in her Maniac gear.

She turned her back on the dance floor and headed into the other, quieter area of the club. She scowled as she looked over the room, not sure what she was looking for. She saw a woman waving at her and approaching. The woman was dressed in a white outfit bordered in red and gold. Much of her face was obscured by a hood and mask decorated with what might have been magical sigils, though Cataclysm didn't recognize them. "You Scarlet?" Cataclysm asked as she approached.

"Yes," the woman said with a warm smile. "Thank you for meeting me, Cataclysm. I've reserved a private table for us."

Cataclysm sullenly followed the woman through the crowd to a table in an alcove. Cataclysm ordered a beer from the waitress who popped up as soon as they got seated, and then she waited for Valerian Scarlet to begin. The woman had contacted her, claiming to be a friend of a friend of Witchcraft's and saying she needed Cataclysm's help on a grave matter. Witchcraft was in Canada investigating a crashed alien ship and the weather was blocking any communication. Cataclysm hadn't been able to find out much about Scarlet other than she owned a club in Vibora Bay and was a skilled sorceress.

Valerian Scarlet leaned forward. "Let me get right to the point, since I believe time is not on our side. Dark forces are moving even as we speak and I need your help to stop them from destroying the world. In a nutshell, I have followed an evil wizard and his minions here from Vibora Bay. I believe they are seeking magical artifacts with the aim of bringing forth the Apocalypse."

Cataclysm raised her eyebrows but said nothing.

"For the last year or so I've been working against a dark magician named Cole, who resides in Vibora Bay. He is a disciple of Therakiel. Do you know of him?"

Cataclysm thought about it for a moment. "Haven't heard of either of them."

"Not surprising," Scarlet shrugged. "Therakiel was an angel thrown out of Heaven during the angels' rebellion, but he was cast down to Earth instead of Hell. Here he has remained, imprisoned by a powerful magical seal, plotting his vengeance against both Jehovah and Lucifer, but few know of his existence. Cole, like the rest of Therakiel's cult, has worked in the shadows. During the recent Blood Moon, several powerful relics were discovered beneath Millennium City. Cole has sent his forces here to gather them and he intends to use them to break Therakiel out of his prison and begin the Apocalypse, which will pit the armies of Heaven and Hell against each other. Therakiel plans to wait for one army to emerge victorious but weakened, and then destroy it and take control of everything."

"End of the world," Cataclysm sighed. "Must be Tuesday. So why come to me? Witchcraft's gone but the other Champions are here. For that matter, I'm sure you have capes in Vibora Bay who can help."

Valerian Scarlet shifted uncomfortably. "Yes, well, that is a problem. You see, I'm not exactly welcome among the heroes of this world. I work with the Trey Kings, one of the gangs in Vibora Bay, so perhaps you can see why I came to you specifically."

The waitress arrived with their drinks and Cataclysm used the opportunity to study the other woman as a beer was set in front of her and a glass of red wine in front of Valerian Scarlet. When the waitress left, Valerian Scarlet continued. "I'm not going to pretend the Kings are the best people in the world, but they care about their city. They've been helping me fight Cole and his demonic minions, but that has turned the police and heroes against us. Sometimes people can't see past the costume."

Cataclysm had taken a deep draught while Valerian talked and now set the drink down. "You've tried telling them about this?"

Valerian Scarlet shrugged. "Honestly, no. I've tried to enlist their help in the past but they consider me as much an enemy as Cole." She shook her head and said, "They think I'm just trying to steal his power for myself when all I'm trying to do is secure these artifacts and lock them away. While they bicker with me and chase their tails, Cole closes in on these relics."

Cataclysm took another sip of beer while she thought. "So what if they are right? About you."

Bitterly, Valerian Scarlet said, "You too? I would think of all people you would understand my position. You united the Westside gangs against Takofanes's undead armies and yet you got nothing but criticism from both the police and the media. Why can't you see what I'm doing?"

Cataclysm shrugged. "Oh, I sympathize, but the funny thing about people who hang out with criminals is most of them are criminals. There aren't many of the 'villain with the heart of gold' types in reality. Why should I trust you?"

Valerian sighed in exasperation. "Look, these artifacts wouldn't even do me any good. Frankly they are more dangerous in your hands than they are in mine." At Cataclysm's expression she said, "No, I don't mean that you'd misuse them. I just mean they need access to power like the primal Fire to be effective. Let me explain." She launched into a description of the magical principals that would allow the artifacts to work together to break Therakiel's prison, explaining the ritual required a strong source of energy just like the spell to summon Bloodstone had. "I simply don't have access to that kind of power," she finished. "And, well, not that I don't trust you but I plan to tell you how to get each one individually so you will have to bring the first back to me before you can get the second."

"OK, so the Champions don't trust you but they trust me. Why shouldn't I just take the relics to them?"

"Because these artifacts don't just need to be secured. They need to be secured magically in a specific way. Witchcraft could probably do it, but Sapphire can't. You can't. In fact nobody in Millennium City can, other than me. If they are not protected correctly, then Cole _will_ get his hands on them."

Cataclysm continued to study her, and Valerian Scarlet grew impatient. "We need to act quickly," she said with a hint of irritation. "Every second you sit here thinking about it, they get closer to victory."

Something nagged at Cataclysm about this woman, but she couldn't help but identify with her. Everything she'd said made sense. She'd answered all Cataclysm's questions well. She still didn't trust Valerian Scarlet completely, but it was time to stop dawdling. "Fine. Let's get started."

* * *

_Cataclysm enters the crypts under the city opened up during the Blood Moon seeking the Obelisk of Dominion. Cole's demonic forces, horrible creatures all teeth and claws and spikes, have beaten her there but she is able to defeat them and recover the artifact. She watches as Valerian Scarlet seals the relic away and then she goes after the petrified head of a Bleak One held by ARGENT. Scarlet seals that away as well and announces she has managed to find where Cole is hiding. Cataclysm and Valerian Scarlet go to Cole's hideout where they engage him in an epic magical battle. He's extremely powerful but they manage to defeat him. Valerian Scarlet casts a spell of binding to trap him._

Cole struggled against the bonds but couldn't free himself. He glared at Cataclysm. "I knew it. I always told Witchcraft you'd betray her again. You've fought alongside evil before. It was only a matter of time before you did it again."

Cataclysm frowned. That seemed like an odd gambit. What did he expect to gain by such a bizarre accusation? "What are you talking about?" she asked in confusion. Suddenly she was knocked off her feet by a blast of energy. She rolled as she hit the ground, quickly throwing up a defensive spell. Dark power surrounded her, cutting through her defenses and sucking at her life force. She forced herself up to one knee and sent a sheet of fire blindly in the direction of the attack. She frantically searched for an enemy but saw nobody but Valerian Scarlet.

Valerian Scarlet grinned evilly at her and said, "Thank you for helping me, Cataclysm. Now that he is out of the picture I just need to defeat you." She sent out another lance of dark energy and Cataclysm threw up a fiery shield to block the attack.

"What is going on, Scarlet?" she demanded.

"Evil always betrays evil," Cole sneered.

Cataclysm felt like she had walked into the middle of a movie and didn't know the script. Lacking dialog she decided to go for action instead, summoning a massive firestorm at Valerian Scarlet's feet. As it penetrated that Valerian Scarlet had been using her, Cataclysm grew enraged and her flames grew hotter.

"Getting angry?" Scarlet asked playfully. "Well, we can't have that." She cast a quick enchantment and Cataclysm felt a numbing calm come over her. Her spells sputtered and died as her anger fled and she was overwhelmed by serenity. She rushed to resume her attack but the hesitation was enough for Scarlet. She cast the same binding curse she had used on Cole and Cataclysm fell to the ground.

Cataclysm struggled against the bonds as she tried to stoke her anger again but she was helpless. Valerian Scarlet danced over to Cole who just glowered at her silently. "I just need one thing from you, darling," she said as she started rifling through his overcoat. "Ah, here we go." She drew out a glowing orange stone from an inner pocket. "The Flame Gem is just what we need to finish our little ritual."

Cataclysm tried to remember what she knew about the Flame Gem. "Doesn't...oh what's his name...Robert Caliburn. He's got the Flame Gem. How did you get it?"

"I am Caliburn, you idiot!" the bound wizard roared.

Finally all the details fell into place in her mind. "Oh god, of course you are," she said, feeling stupid. "She's with Therakiel, isn't she?"

"Obviously," Caliburn said with withering contempt.

Cataclysm resumed her struggle against the bonds but they wouldn't give. Valerian came and stood over her. "It's too bad," she mused. "Once upon a time I thought you might join us, long ago before you became soft. Before you became," she chuckled, "so _diplomatic_. Don't you know that truth and justice and peace talk gets you nowhere? Power is all that matters. It's the one thing that can get you what you want. You can do anything. Even make little costumed freaks do the work for you."

Scarlet squatted down to look into Cataclysm's eyes. "There's no reason to struggle. It's too late. The Apocalypse is coming. Sure, Vibora Bay has heroes like that so-called mystic Dr. Ka and that wannabe ninja Redsnake and that costumed tramp Black Mask. They're not going to stop us; no one can! Not even your Champions, or you, and especially not my Caliburn. I doubt you can appreciate what's really going on." She sneered, "Idiot! So, let me make it clear. Say goodbye to the world you knew. When Therakiel is done with the place, everything will change. And I'll be the one with all the power." She reached out to stroke Cataclysm's cheek, but quickly jerked her hand back as Cataclysm snapped at her fingers. Valerian Scarlet shook her head in disappointment, stood and calmly walked away.

Cataclysm listened in disbelief as her footsteps faded. "Why didn't she kill us?" she demanded.

"Because there's no reason to," Caliburn said sourly. "She's convinced we can't stop her. And she just might be right." He growled. "You don't have a clue what you've just done, do you? This whole situation's a mess. You got us here so you'd better believe you're going to help fix it. Once this binding spell wears off you better pack your extra tights, hero. You're coming to Vibora Bay with me."

Cataclysm scowled at him. "When we get out of here, remind me to kick you in the nuts for the hero crack."

"You better just pray we're in time to stop the Apocalypse, or being on my bad side will be the least of your worries.

It took about 45 minutes for the binding spell to wear off, 45 minutes of Caliburn telling her what an idiot she was. When they were free they glared at each other and then headed for the Champions building.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cole, incidentally, is Robert Caliburn's original last name per the wiki. I figured Cataclysm would, as a friend of Witchcraft's, have heard of Caliburn though not necessarily have met him. Valerian Scarlet would need to hide who Cataclysm was really fighting. 
> 
> I said a few chapters ago that I had decided to stop writing filler in an effort to get myself to finish. This is the only chapter where I feel that hurt the story. Skipping over all that stuff in the middle, especially the battle with Caliburn, is jarring to the narrative. However, it is what it is, and here's hoping that it won't put too many people off. There are no more awkward jumps like that between here and the end.


	35. Welcome to Vibora Bay

Caliburn briefed the Champions on the current situation, showering Cataclysm with withering scorn, before he headed back to Vibora Bay. The weather in Canada cleared long enough to get a message to Witchcraft who hurried back to join them. They boarded the jet and followed Caliburn. On the way they heard the first confused news reports of supernatural occurrences all over the world, including back in Millennium City where journalists openly wondered where the Champions had gone. The Apocalypse had begun but the group knew they needed to stop the problem at its source and continued to the Queen City.

They arrived late in the evening. The reality was far worse than any of them had imagined. Vibora Bay was devastated. Great rifts ran through the city, as though the entire area had been dropped from a great height and shattered. The air was thick with smoke from hundreds of fires and even from this altitude they could see destroyed buildings. Above the broken city floated a huge cathedral set into a massive chunk of ground torn from the earth below. Beneath it was the scar it had been torn from, but the crater seemed to have no bottom. A massive column of light shone straight up from the highest steeple of the cathedral, disappearing into the heavens above.

Cataclysm was sitting next to Witchcraft who stared out the window at the city below. Cataclysm reached out to pat the other woman's arm and Witchcraft turned her tear-stained face to stare at her blankly. Witchcraft said in horror, "What have you done?" before turning back to look at the devastation again. Cataclysm felt a stab of guilt and withdrew her hand.

Defender deftly landed the jet on the roof of Dr. Ka's brownstone. As they exited the craft, they were greeted by an exhausted looking man who identified himself as Hormenius of the Trismegistus Council. Cataclysm looked around from this high perch. To call the city a war zone was an understatement. She wondered if there were any survivors at all out there. Dr. Ka's home was protected by a red pyramid of energy. Outside Cataclysm could see demonic creatures patrolling the streets as well as flying figures in the distance.

Hormenius led them downstairs into a conference room where several other people were already waiting for them. Hormenius made quick introductions: Dr. Ka, Redsnake, Black Mask and Amphibian, all local superheroes. Hormenius excused himself and, after the group had settled around the conference table, Dr. Ka got right to the point.

"Thank you, my friends, for coming to help us. I know you must be tired after your flight but we must act quickly. Valerian Scarlet struck as soon as she returned to the city. As you saw on your flight in, the ritual to free Therakiel is already underway and is having devastating effects on the city. The prophecies have come to pass. The Apocalypse is upon us. The looming Apocalypse does not mean the end for all of us. For some it is merely the beginning of an age of perpetual malevolence. Dark magic users and criminals are capitalizing on the chaos, and many of them are already in Therakiel's service. His foot soldiers come from the four most powerful gangs in the city -- the Trey Kings, the Dogz, the New Shadows and the Sovereign Sons -- who help him in return for supernatural power.

"Fortunately we are not alone in seeking to protect those who cannot protect themselves. The Trismegistus Council is an organization of magic users dedicated to protecting Earth from supernatural threats. Elders of the Council are spread through the city, serving as our eyes and ears. Unfortunately," he said gravely, "casualties have been extremely high. We are fighting a losing battle."

Defender said firmly, "My friend, I don't mean to brag but I've saved the world dozens of times! I'm sure you have, too! The key in situations such as these is not to lose hope! The righteous and true will ultimately prevail, I have no doubt!"

Cataclysm rolled her eyes but avoided calling him a naïve idiot. Dr. Ka smiled at Defender with what Cataclysm thought was just a hint of condescension and then said, "I hope you are correct. We certainly haven't given up. We have come up with two possible paths to victory." He turned to Caliburn. "Robert?" he prompted.

Caliburn stood and addressed the group. "Things are getting ugly around Vibora Bay. If we're going to stop Therakiel, we're going to need three things and plenty of 'em: firepower, sorcery and superpowers. Therakiel has been plotting to bring on this Apocalypse for centuries, possibly even eons. He is a tough cookie, but there's one mortal who may be able to stand up to him: the Archmage. Problem is, there isn't an Archmage, and hasn't been for a hundred years. If we're going to stop the Apocalypse, we need somebody to fill the position. That somebody is yours truly, but we need to quick-step if we're going to get me sworn in before the world ends. Therakiel recognized I was a contender to become the Archmage, and hence a threat, so his second in command, Valerian Scarlet, ambushed me and took the Flame Gem...with a little local help." He glared at Cataclysm who returned his gaze without flinching, though guilt continued to eat at her. He continued, "I still have mystical ability, but without the Flame Gem in my possession, my arcane abilities are severely diminished."

Caliburn folded his arms. "So Plan A is to make me the Archmage. It's not going to be an easy road but it's our best chance at victory. Our biggest problem is that we simply don't know what is required for someone to become the Archmage and we don't have much time to find out. Honestly I think that's the only hope the world has, but we have another plan as well.

"Plan B is to attack Therakiel's forces directly, hoping to disrupt his plans or even interrupt the ritual that will break him from his prison." He frowned. "I don't expect that plan to work. Frankly the real purpose is to distract Val from what I'm really doing. If by some miracle you manage to beat her, then great. And if she manages to block my ascension to Archmage, then it will be our only hope."

Dr. Ka said unhappily, "We have been working towards that end with little success. As I said, our casualties have been high. However we did manage to achieve one minor victory. We hurt the Sovereign Sons enough that they have withdrawn from the battle. They are not helping us but they are not helping Therakiel either. Not only that, but they apparently stole a powerful relic called the Unholy Flame of the Nephilim from Therakiel and are hiding it in one of their churches. Acquiring that artifact needs to be a high priority as it could turn the tide in this war. Now with the arrival of our new allies we can aggressively pursue both plans. Some will help Robert in his quest for the Archmage while the others attack Therakiel."

"Have you considered technological solutions to the problem?" Defender interjected.

Caliburn looked surprised. "Honestly, no. Did you have something in mind?"

"Nothing specific but I've found powerful sorcerers are not prepared to defend against technological attacks!" he said. "I'd like to consult with Juryrig and see if we can come up with anything!"

Caliburn made a thoughtful noise. "You have a point. I've never depended on just magic." He patted the .45 on his hip. "Bullets are cheaper and easier than spells, and it's surprising how many powerful enemies go down when you shoot them between the eyes."

"Should we split our forces so thinly?" Dr. Ka asked.

Caliburn mulled that over and then said, "Before I decide, does anyone else have any ideas?"

Ironclad shrugged, "Show me who to fight and I will waste no time defeating our enemies. But in matters such as the Apocalypse, I am at a loss as to how to best proceed."

Redsnake said, "I have consulted the Snake Idol but I have no idea how to stop an Apocalypse."

Kinetik drummed his fingers, saying, "I'm getting really anxious standing around waiting for something to do. Whatever we do we should do it soon!"

Caliburn rubbed his chin for a few seconds and then said, "I wouldn’t mind having a Plan C. Defender, you go talk to Juryrig. If you two can't come up with a brilliant idea today then we'll go back to our original plans. Right now I need a team willing to go after the Flame of Nephilim, and the rest of you can help me gather some magical artifacts that will be necessary for his research."

"I'll go after the Flame," Ironclad said quickly, relieved to have a target to fight.

"Very good. The Sovereign Sons are no pushovers so you should take one or two people with you."

He looked around and said. "Witchcraft? Cataclysm? Will you join me?" Both women mumbled assent.

"Excellent," Dr. Ka said, his mood rising. "You should probably leave immediately. I don't want to give Therakiel's forces a chance to recover the artifact." Ironclad nodded and the three of them rose and headed for the door.

The Sovereign Sons might not be under Therakiel's thumb anymore, but that didn't mean they were happy to see intruders on their turf. However they were not prepared for three powerful metahumans. The trio had little trouble reaching the vodoun church where the Flame was rumored to be kept. Since the Sons would be expecting Therakiel's forces to try to retrieve the relic, they expected the church to be well defended.

This is why they were surprised when they opened the massive doors and found the place dark, silent and empty. Witchcraft peered into the blackness. "Dark magic has been used here," she said softly. "Stay on your guard." Cataclysm could feel it too, like a cold breeze running across her skin.

Witchcraft summoned a globe of light and sent it out to illuminate the nave. That was when they saw the first bodies. Three Sovereign Sons lay on the inlaid tile floor, their bodies torn in many places. "It seems our foes have already been slain," rumbled Ironclad. "Perhaps the culprit is still nearby."

"Or they've beaten us to the Flame," said Cataclysm.

"No," said Witchcraft thoughtfully. "I feel the Flame's presence nearby. It is still here."

The three of them exchanged glances. "Trap?" said Cataclysm.

Witchcraft grimaced. "Possibly. Unfortunately we cannot turn back. It is possible the Sovereign Sons repelled the attack and have regrouped deeper in the church. We have to be sure. Let us proceed cautiously."

They spread out, Ironclad leading and the two spellcasters on his flanks. They kept some distance between themselves to make it harder for someone to hit them all with one attack, but the deep shadows and the feeling of dread that permeated the church kept them from moving too far away from one another. They all listened carefully and watched for movement as they moved into the church.

Ironclad suddenly stopped. He turned, tapped his ear and pointed to one corridor. Cataclysm strained and realized she could hear faint voices. Witchcraft dimmed her light and they moved cautiously down the hall. They could see light ahead from around a bend. They stopped as they neared the corner. "I don't want to fight if we don't have to," Witchcraft whispered. "Perhaps we can negotiate."

Cataclysm shrugged when Witchcraft look at her. Ironclad nodded. Witchcraft called out, "You there, in the next room." The voices stopped. "We wish to talk. May we enter?"

They heard whispered discussion. A man's voice called out. "Who are you?"

"My name is Witchcraft. We are allies of Dr. Ka, but we are not your enemies tonight."

More whispered discussion and then the man said, "You can enter but we are on our guard."

The three of them rounded the corner to find the corridor led into a chapel about fifty feet wide and twice then in length. Four voudoun priests and a half-dozen zombies were standing in front of an altar at the far end. On the altar was a massive silver brazier containing a blue flame that burned fiercely. The Sovereign Sons watched the three enter until one said, "That's far enough."

"We just want the Flame of the Nephilim," Witchcraft said. "Give it to us and we will leave you unharmed."

"The Flame is the only thing keeping us alive," said the man. "Its power makes our magic stronger, strong enough to fight off the Trey Kings who tried to steal it. Strong enough to fight you."

"That's what Therakiel wants, for his enemies to fight one another. Help us defeat him. If he wins then he will destroy all of us."

The priest furrowed his brow, clearly conflicted. "We will find our own place in the world that will come. The dark magic will power our spells." He didn't sound convinced.

"But Therakiel's magic will be stronger," Witchcraft said. "He will not tolerate your presence for long. He might come after us first, but then he'll turn his wrath on the Sovereign Sons."

The man dithered. Cataclysm understood his conflict. She'd had the same internal discussions every time she had to work with the police. Finally, though, he got a look of resignation. "Fine," he said. "You take the Flame. But if you make any move against us, we will defend ourselves."

The priest and the zombies moved aside, clearing a path to the altar. The three of them started to advance but something had been nagging at Cataclysm since she entered the chapel. She couldn't help but notice that when they reached the altar they'd be surrounded, but that wasn't it. Suddenly it came to her in a flash. "The bodies!" she blurted.

Witchcraft and Ironclad stopped. "Bodies?" Witchcraft asked in confusion.

"The Trey Kings. If they attacked and were beaten, where are their bodies? I hardly think the Sovereign Sons would have removed them and left their own allies behind."

Witchcraft's eyes widened and she turned back to the priest. He shook his head in disappointment. "So close," he said and then dropped the glamour, revealing himself to be one of the Trey King twisted demonic leaders. The other disguises faded as well and the Trey Kings leapt at them. Cataclysm reacted instantly, bathing half the group in flame. Witchcraft blasted others with lighting while Ironclad drew his blade and leapt into the fray with a bellow. The battle was short. Without the element of surprise, the Trey Kings weren't strong enough to defeat the three of them.

The last of their enemies fell and the three scanned for other threats and found none. They relaxed. "Well done, Cataclysm," Ironclad said. "I am ashamed I fell for such an obvious ruse."

Witchcraft looked at the bright blue flame. "The Unholy Flame of the Nephilim," she said. "The world will be a healthier place once we've destroyed it."

She turned to Cataclysm and opened her mouth to say something else, then stopped in shock, looking at something behind Cataclysm. Cataclysm heard a familiar voice from the entry of the chapel say, "Like moths to a flame..."

"Look out!" Witchcraft cried. She lunged forward and shoved Cataclysm out of the way. A black spell slammed into Witchcraft, surrounding her with crackling dark energy. Witchcraft cried out and fell to the ground, writhing in pain.

Cataclysm whirled to face the enemy. Valerian Scarlet said, "Give up, little heroes. You're out of your league, and you've been sold out."

Rage burst out of her and Cataclysm surrounded Valerian in an inferno. The Fire Rift tore open almost instantly and Cataclysm started to send the Fire towards her, but Ironclad charged towards Scarlet with a roar, blocking Cataclysm's shot. He slashed at her over and over, making it hard for her to get her spells off. Cataclysm rushed to the side, trying to get a better shot at Valerian. She finally was able to send a blast of white hot Fire at her, causing Ironclad to step back. Once he was out of the way, Cataclysm was able to focus her full fury on the evil sorceress. Valerian tried the same charm she used before to take away Cataclysm's anger, but that trick wasn't going to work again. Cataclysm had already prepared a counterspell for that.

Cataclysm heard Ironclad grunt and then the crack of breaking stone. The altar came flying through the air, crashing into Valerian Scarlet and smashing her against the wall. As the altar crashed down to the ground, Scarlet's face was twisted in agony. Cataclysm pressed her attack, surrounding her in a firestorm.

Valerian Scarlet glared at her. "This isn't over," she said, blood coming from her mouth. "I'll finish off the rest of you later." She fled into the corridor leaving the chapel, blocking the way with a quick force field.

Cataclysm was blinded by rage and started to give chase but Ironclad grabbed her arm. "We must save Witchcraft," he rumbled.

Cataclysm turned to see Witchcraft still struggling, teeth bared, eyes closed against the powerful dark spell that surrounded her. He was right. She hurried to Witchcraft's side and tried every healing chant and counterspell she knew, but this was some kind of ancient curse. She had never seen anything like it. It was sucking away Witchcraft's life force and nothing Cataclysm did even slowed it down. All she could do was kneel there and watch Witchcraft die.

"Witchcraft," Ironclad said, his voice shaking in grief and anger. "Therakiel and his minions shall pay for this!"

The dark energy dissipated as Witchcraft's life fled. Cataclysm stared at her in disbelief. "No," she said as tears started to flow. "No, we don't die." She reached out to cradle Witchcraft's inert form. "We get stabbed and shot and blown up. We fall off cliffs and buried under avalanches. We face demons and aliens and psychos. We get hurt." She squeezed Witchcraft tightly, tears flowing unrestricted. "But we don't die."

"Cataclysm," Ironclad said. Cataclysm ignored him as she grieved. "Cataclysm!" he said more urgently. "We have to go!" She looked up to see a horde of demonic Trey Kings coming down the corridor. There must have been a hundred of them.

Cataclysm watched them approach, thought of Valerian Scarlet, and her sorrow turned to rage. She gently lay Witchcraft down, knowing she wasn't strong enough to carry the body. "Take her," she said to Ironclad as she stood. The fury grew and flames started to lick up and down her body. Grimly she said, "I'll clear a path."

* * *

Cataclysm opened the door and entered Dr. Ka's brownstone. Ka was there with Caliburn and Black Mask. His face lit up when she entered. "Thank goodness, my friends. I'm so glad to see you are-" He broke off as Ironclad entered, carrying Witchcraft's body. His face fell. "Oh, no. Not another one."

"Another one?" Ironclad asked.

Dr. Ka gave him a sympathetic look. "I'm so sorry," he said. "Kinetik fell tonight." Ironclad's face clouded and his jaw tightened. "The others are with him. Black Mask, please show them the way."

Cataclysm and Ironclad followed Black Mask in a daze. Cataclysm was nearly out of the room when she heard Caliburn say to Dr. Ka, "We were betrayed by one of our own. And it's obvious who it is."

She froze. Ironclad continued down the corridor, either not having heard the remark or choosing to ignore it. She turned to see Caliburn was glaring at her. Coldly she grated, "What did you say?"

"Both missions were ambushed," he said defiantly. "We were the only ones who knew about them. I've worked with the Vibora Bay heroes for years and I know I can trust them. The Champions have a long history as well. And then we have you, a loose cannon, a criminal, and a known associate of DEMON, VIPER and other evil organizations."

Cataclysm stalked forward. Dr. Ka said, "Now, Robert, I don't think this is the-"

"Say it again," Cataclysm snarled at Caliburn. "I dare you."

He didn't back down. Matching her glower for glower he said, "Two people are dead tonight. Because of a traitor. Because of you."

Anger like she had never felt flashed up inside her. She literally saw red as the room was bathed in a scarlet tinge. She drew back to send a searing blast of flame at him, when suddenly Dr. Ka stepped in front of her, grabbing her arm and breaking the spell. "Stop it!" he barked angrily. "Both of you! We have to work together if we have any hope of beating Therakiel. This is exactly what he wants to happen."

She and Caliburn continued to glare at each other. It took all her willpower but finally she let herself relax just slightly. Ka let her arm go and stepped back cautiously. She swallowed and grated, "If you ever accuse me of being responsible for Witchcraft's death again then I swear to fucking god, Apocalypse or not, I will kill you. And I don't mean some playful, 'Dude, I'll kill you if you take the last piece of pizza.' I mean I will end your life. Painfully." She turned and stormed out of the room.


	36. Grief

Unfortunately it didn't end with Kinetik and Witchcraft. The next day Black Mask and Sapphire were ambushed but fared much worse than the first two groups. Only Black Mask made it back, barely alive. Before she slipped into a coma she was able to say she saw Sapphire fall. Without proper medical care it was only a matter of time before she joined them. Redsnake and Amphibian had gone on a mission in the sewers but were long overdue. They couldn't spare any of the five remaining to go look for them.

A heavy pall of grief and silence hung over Dr. Ka's brownstone. The people inside moved about, talked of their plans against Therakiel's forces but something had been lost. Although none of them would admit it, nobody really believed they could win anymore. None of them were going to give up so they continued grimly going through the motions.

One night Cataclysm headed for the kitchen to find something to eat. Dr. Ka had done what he could under the circumstances to make his home hospitable, providing room and board to the visiting metas. She hesitated in the doorway when she saw Defender was there, out of his armor and sitting at the table. After all these years she still didn't feel comfortable being around him alone. Witchcraft always acted as a buffer. Now that she was gone Cataclysm felt even more awkward around him. She debated about leaving but she was hungry so she pushed herself past her resistance and into the room. Cataclysm opened the fridge, took a couple pieces of cold chicken and a beer and then, for lack of anywhere else to eat, she headed for the table.

She sat down and grunted a greeting at Defender. He didn't seem to hear her. He had an untouched plate of food in front of him and he was staring at something in his hand. She could see it was a Champions badge: a metal hexagon with a stylized C in the center. She knew it was magnetic and had a clasp so could easily be attached to a belt, jacket, or other piece of clothing. Defender was the only one who wore his consistently. The others wore theirs to official functions or when operating as a team.

Cataclysm felt sad as she looked at him. She disliked him, she wasn't going to lie about that, but that didn't mean she wanted to see him like this. He was just...hollow, an empty Defender-shaped shell of the man he used to be. He continued to gaze blankly at the badge. She wondered if it was his or Witchcraft's. Either way he didn't seem to feel like talking so she started eating.

After she'd eaten a few bites he said abruptly, "She never blamed you." His eyes slid over to look at her. "For this," he waved vaguely. "I know she said something unkind to you on the flight. She felt terrible about that. Was going to apologize." He looked back at the badge. "Just ran out of time."

Cataclysm felt her grief welling up. "Yeah," she said roughly. "I know. She wasn't the type to hold a grudge even if people deserved it." She almost said something about blaming herself but stopped. This conversation wasn't about her. "She was a better friend than I deserved," she said with difficulty.

Defender didn't respond. She waited but he said nothing more. After a long period of silence she went back to eating. She ate quickly, wanting to get the meal over with so she could get out of this uncomfortable situation.

"Did she ever tell you we discussed inviting you to join the Champions?" Defender asked.

Cataclysm stopped chewing. She set the piece of chicken down and took a swallow of beer to wash down the food in her mouth. "Um, no," she said.

He nodded distantly, still staring at the badge. "About six, eight months ago. You've defended the city many times. Put yourself in danger. Stood up for the helpless. So we talked about it. Took a vote. But it had to be unanimous."

He drifted off. She waited but he didn't continue. Finally she said sharply, "And?"

"Four in favor. One against," he said. Cataclysm was annoyed and then he turned to her and said with the barest hint of a sad smile, "Witchcraft. She said if I made the offer, you'd literally spit in my face."

Cataclysm felt a rush of emotions. She wanted to both laugh and cry at that remark, and instead those feelings just fed into the simmering anger she had felt every moment since Witchcraft's death. After a few seconds, when she could speak, she growled "She wasn't wrong." She looked down at the rest of her meal but wasn't hungry anymore. She was thirsty but pushed the beer away. With the way she felt, one more sip and she'd never stop. Feeling a little guilty, she stood. She just didn't have the strength to deal with his pain. She needed to deal with her own. She hesitated and then clumsily reached out and squeezed Defender's shoulder before she left the kitchen.

* * *

"So in a nutshell," Caliburn said, "Kryptos tells me that we need the four elemental gems for me to become the Archmage. And Val has them all, using them as part of her ritual to break Therakiel out. That leaves us with no choice. We have to go after Val directly. No more sneaking around the edges. Full frontal assault on the most fortified stronghold Therakiel's forces have."

A heavy silence fell over them. Cataclysm looked around at the others standing around the room. Dr. Ka and Ironclad looked as gloomy as she felt. She couldn't see Defender's face behind his helmet. Caliburn wasn't a fool and knew what they were thinking. "Or," he said dryly, "we could go join Therakiel's little cult and maybe not be killed when he rises." He shook his head. "Believe me, if there were any other options I'd tell you."

Dr. Ka said, "What of your inquiries into the possibility someone here is working with our enemies?"

Caliburn gave Cataclysm a sidelong glance before mumbling, "Perhaps I was mistaken to think there is a traitor among us." He shifted uncomfortably and added, "I wonder if it was a trick of Therakiel's to make us suspect one another, and to sow distrust and discontent within our group of...noble do-gooders." The last phrase was said with sarcasm but Cataclysm realized that was the closest he was going to come to an apology.

"Can we recruit any additional forces?" Ironclad asked.

Dr. Ka shook his head. "We've already brought in everyone in the area. Supernatural uprisings across the globe are keeping everyone busy and making travel impossible. The few remaining members of the Trismegistus Council won't be able to lend us much power. They would be better used to hold the brownstone while we go after Valerian Scarlet."

The five of them looked at each other and the gloom deepened. Defender stepped forward to address the group. "My friends, do not despair," he said. His voice had lost its steel but he was doing his best to keep his tone positive. "We have all faced impossible odds and emerged victorious. The forces of evil cannot resist the powers of good for long. The battle will be arduous but in the end I believe we will win the day and bring Valerian Scarlet to justice."

"Christ," Cataclysm said in disgust. She hadn't meant to say it aloud but it slipped out.

"Cataclysm?" Defender asked in surprise.

She grimaced but charged on. "Bring her to justice? Jesus, do you even understand what is going on? Look, I get it. Out of all of us, you've lost the most in the last couple of days. But we don't have time for you to play denial games." She wasn't really mad at him but he was as convenient a target as any for her frustration. She demanded, "Look around! We're not going after some purse snatcher. We are at war here. We're not going in there to _arrest_ her for fuck's sake!"

The others were stunned at her outburst. She felt bad about it, but things were too far gone to worry about some hurt feelings. Defender seemed speechless. Ironclad asked Cataclysm, "And what do you think we are going in there to do?"

She looked at him and the others in shock. Did none of them understand? "I don't know about the rest of you but I’m going in there to kill the bitch," she said firmly.

Defender shook his head. "No, we must not become like our enemies. We must rise above that, be a beacon of justice that stops evil without resorting to taking lives. To kill is an evil act."

"Oh bravo," she said, clapping sarcastically. "Be sure to give that speech to a bunch of soldiers next Veteran's Day. Look, I've been through this before. Showed mercy over and over. And the corpses piled up. The killing stopped only when she died. Dammit, some people just need killing!" She looked around but none of the others would meet her gaze. "Am I wrong?" she demanded. "This isn't just about the people we've lost. Haven't you guys noticed the smell today? Sniff the air. It's the stench of the thousands of bodies littering this city. How much worse will it be when Therakiel is calling the shots? Am I the only one willing to do what needs to be done?" Nobody spoke. She had to know where everyone stood. "Answer me!" she demanded.

There was a general sense of discomfort in the room. Caliburn was the first to speak. He opened his coat to reveal his pistol. "This thing doesn't shoot paint balls," he said.

Ironclad said with determination, "I have a great love for my adopted homeworld. I will not allow it to be destroyed in an unholy Apocalypse." Then his shoulders fell slightly and he sighed. "I killed many times in the arenas of Malva. Each time it took something away from me, some part of my humanity, my honor." He reached over his shoulder and drew his massive sword from its sheath on his back. He held it out, rotating it back and forth so the light caught the edge. "But my weapon is sharp," he said. "It is a killing blade. I do not fear taking a life but neither do I court it. I do so only if I have no other choice."

Dr. Ka stared into the distance. Reluctantly he said, "I vowed long ago to do whatever it took to protect humans against the machinations of gods and devils. I settled in Vibora Bay because prophecy told me the battle to decide the future of our species would be fought here. I agree that hesitation could cost us victory, and I will do what needs to be done." He turned to study her. "However I have a question for you. What will you do if Valerian Scarlet surrenders?"

"She won't," Cataclysm replied.

"But what if she does."

Cataclysm set her jaw and said. "I told you. I'm going in there to kill the bitch."

Dr. Ka's face clouded and he said, "I don't think anyone here will stand by and allow you to murder someone, no matter what she has done."

Cataclysm scanned their faces and sensed they all felt the same way. Defiantly she said, "Then I guess we all better hope she doesn't surrender." She turned to walk out of the room.

Her dramatic exit was spoiled when Defender said softly, "It's not what she would want."

Cataclysm stopped in the doorway, her back to him. She grabbed the jamb and squeezed it. She didn't face him but turned to say over her shoulder, "I know." Her voice caught but she continued. "I'm not doing it for her. I'm doing it for me." She walked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I normally disable guest comments because anonymity breeds trolls, plus it used to be easy to get an AO3 account. However, from what I've heard lately, it's taking people weeks or even months to get an invitation, so I've turned guest comments on.


	37. Armageddon

Caliburn's Uzi chattered as it sent a trio of bullets down the corridor. With every burst one of the charging horde of horrors fell but there were more behind. Cataclysm sent a torrent of flame down another hallway, slowing but not stopping the army advancing towards them. Dr. Ka melted out of a pool of shadow in a corner and pointed down yet another passage. "This way," he cried. "We are nearly there."

Ironclad roared and broke through the line of Trey King monstrosities blocking their path. Dr. Ka quickly moved up to join him, his mace joining Ironclad's sword as they pushed their way further into the temple. Defender provided support, firing past them to take out the larger targets he could sight. Caliburn and Cataclysm backed down the corridor after them, both continuously firing to keep the seemingly endless horde of demonic figures back.

They made steady progress towards the ritual chamber and Cataclysm couldn't help but be bothered by it. Yelling to be heard over the noise of battle she said, "Is it me or is this too easy?"

Caliburn tossed his Uzi aside and it faded away before it hit the ground. He held his hands out and an M16 assault weapon appeared. He sighted down the barrel and fired a burst before saying, "You have a funny definition of the word 'easy'." He fired two more bursts and then added, "But you're right. They are herding us. Cutting off our retreat."

Cataclysm called up a cloud of flame at the intersection, catching at least a dozen horrors in the holocaust. "No problem. Hadn't planned to retreat."

He grunted and said, "Yeah, but I don't like doing what the enemy expects. Bad tactics."

They reached the end of the hallway where a heavy steel-bound door blocked their way. Ironclad bellowed and smashed the door with all of his strength. It cracked. He hit it again and the hinges gave way. He tore the door out of its frame and threw it into the room. They entered the ritual chamber, Ironclad standing in the doorway to hold off the advancing Trey Kings.

The massive chamber was walled in dark stone and lit by a eclectic combination of open flames and electric lamps mounted on the stone pillars that held up the vaulted ceiling. The walls were inscribed in arcane symbols Cataclysm recognized as protection wards. In the middle of the floor she saw an elaborate summoning circle. Spaced equally around the circle were four huge metal braziers and floating above each of them was one of the Elemental Gems. Standing at the far side the circle was Valerian Scarlet, dressed in dark robes. She wasn't surprised at the intrusion. "Looking for these?" she asked innocently, gesturing to the gems. "The Elemental Gems make a nice set, don't they?"

Defender stepped forward. Defiantly he said, "We need those gems if we're going to stop the Apocalypse!"

Valerian laughed at him. "And you five think you can take them from me? I have a surprise for you, little heroes. This time I brought backup!" She chanted a few words of power. Energies coursed from the stones to meet in the middle where they swirled around each other in a blinding display.

"She's opening the portal!" Caliburn cried. "We have to stop her."

With anger in his voice, Defender said, "Valerian, we're not going to let you kill anyone else!" and leapt to the attack. Cataclysm moved to join him but Caliburn grabbed her arm.

"I don't have the power to keep that portal closed on my own," he said. "I need your connection to Fire to supplement my magic."

"I have other priorities," she said, shaking off his arm.

He stepped in front of her and snarled, "Look, punk, I figure you're just some selfish hothead who doesn't care about anything but herself. But Witchcraft sees...saw something more in you. If you're going to step up then you need to do it now. Because if Therakiel gets out, then we are all doomed. Now help me with this spell!"

Cataclysm glared at him. She glanced over at Valerian Scarlet who was battling Defender and Dr. Ka. Ironclad was holding the doorway against the hordes of Trey Kings trying to get in. She looked back at Caliburn as her mind raced. "Shit," she said emphatically. "Fine!"

Caliburn started his counterspell, trying to keep the portal from opening. This was magic well beyond what Cataclysm had learned, but she wasn't here for her portal spell knowledge. She was here for pure power, a living battery that he could use to fuel his own magic. Maybe, just maybe, the two of them together would be strong enough to keep the portal closed and keep Therakiel trapped.

She tore open the Fire Rift and began feeding energy to Caliburn. At first she did him no good. She hadn't worked on a joint spell like this other than a few times in the danger room with Witchcraft. It didn't help that she disliked Caliburn, as it made it hard for her to link to him. However with time she saw the pattern and between that and his barked orders, she slowly brought her casting in sync with his. He was able to tap into the power of the Plane of Fire and the portal stopped expanding. Then, very slowly, it started to shrink.

Cataclysm was dimly aware of the sound of battle but did her best to ignore it. She was surprised when she heard Valerian Scarlet call her name. "Aren't you going to play with me?" she taunted.

"Ignore her," Caliburn said through gritted teeth. Sweat poured down his face as he fought to close the portal.

Cataclysm spared Valerian a glance, being careful to maintain her concentration. Scarlet was backed into a corner, Defender and Dr. Ka working to keep her away from the others so she couldn’t interfere with the ritual. "Does Witchcraft's life mean so little to you?" Valerian called to her. "Don't you want your vengeance?"

"She's baiting you," Caliburn said. "She knows we can close this."

Cataclysm knew he was right but her anger, already high because it fueled her magic, was growing. Valerian said, "You know, Therakiel can bring her back." Cataclysm didn't even bother sneering at her. Did the woman really think Cataclysm would switch sides over such an empty promise? But that wasn't Valerian's tactic. "I think I'll have him revive her so I can kill her again," she said. "Much more painfully this time."

Cataclysm could feel herself slipping. The flow of energy sputtered and Caliburn cursed. "Dammit, don't play her game! We're almost done."

"You were too weak to save her," Valerian called out.

"Shut her up!" Caliburn roared at the other two.

Valerian wasn't attacking anymore. All her energy was put into keeping the two heroes off her so she could continue to goad Cataclysm. "Or maybe you just don't care. You never really cared about Witchcraft, right? That's why you let her die."

The anger flared and Cataclysm was halfway across the room before she even realized she'd moved. All the energy she had been feeding to Caliburn was redirected towards Valerian Scarlet. The explosion of flame blasted Dr. Ka and Defender back and pinned Valerian Scarlet against the wall. Cataclysm was vaguely aware of Caliburn yelling at her but she couldn't hear anything he said, couldn't see anything but Scarlet. She poured fire into the corner where the woman was trapped, walking ever closer to her. Valerian Scarlet was surrounded by a storm of white-hot flame but all Cataclysm heard was the woman laughing victoriously.

Cataclysm finally forced her fury down and stopped the stream of fire. Valerian, or at least what was left of her, stood against the corner for a moment before slowly collapsing to the floor in a smoking pile. To Cataclysm's surprise the horribly burned woman turned her head to look at her. "He'll save me," Valerian said weakly, the triumph audible even in her rough whisper. "Who will save you?"

Cataclysm stared down at her, paralyzed by her disgust at what she had done. Her self-loathing was interrupted by an enormous crack of thunder. She turned to see the ball of energy in the center of the summoning circle had expanded into a shimmering doorway. From out of the portal strode a figure, a study in contrasts. His left half was a physically perfect human form, so beautiful it took her breath away. But his right half was the shattered and rotting body of a corpse, just as perfect in its gruesomeness. He had wings, the left strong and covered in white feathers and the right bare, broken and rotting. The figure held a finely crafted sword and shadows danced along its blade.

"Behold!" the figure cried in a voice that shook her to her bones. "Therakiel the Bright walks the earth."

Cataclysm could feel the power radiating off him but she wasn't going to go down without a fight. She started up a spell but broke off as someone grabbed her and pulled her behind a pillar. She turned to attack but stopped when she saw it was Defender. "We haven't much time!" he said. "You must go to Juryrig! Tell him it is time for Plan C!"

"What?" she said in confusion. "I can't leave now. You can't beat him without me."

Defender put his hand on her shoulder. "We will fight bravely but we cannot beat him, even with your help! We can hold him long enough for you and Juryrig to do what must be done! Trust that we will not give our lives cheaply!" He pushed something into her hand and said, "You are the only one who can reach him! You can travel through fire and break through the siege!" He saluted her and said, "Good luck, hero!" before joining the others in the battle against Therakiel.

Cataclysm stood there with her mouth open. She didn't realize Defender know about her work with Witchcraft learning to travel through the Plane of Fire between any two flames. She had done it only a few times, and never traveled more than about five feet.

She looked down at what he had pushed into her hand. It was a metal hexagon with a stylized C in the center. She vacillated. She wasn't one to run. She wanted to fight not flee, wanted to direct all her surging fury against Therakiel. She looked back up at the battle and then at the torch on the pillar next to her. Grimly she shoved the badge into a pocket and then started the spell. She dove into the flame.

* * *

Cataclysm hovered in the darkness looking at the horde around Juryrig's lab. She knew she was lit up like a beacon in the night sky but nothing was looking at her. Every creature that hadn't been attacking them at the brownstone must be here. Why? What was Plan C? And how did they know about it?

She wasn't going to be able to break through this army, at least not quickly. Traveling through the fire had proven to be exhausting and disorienting but she had managed to make it here in a fraction of the time it would have taken if she had flown. There was no shortage of fires; the whole city was burning. Unsure there was an open flame inside Juryrig's workshop she dove into a burning building.

She looked around the Plane of Fire and saw several flames near his workshop but she was pretty sure they were the fires that ringed the building. Looking past them she saw a small flame that seemed to be inside the workshop. Hoping she was right, she rushed over and popped out of the fire.

Cataclysm found herself in a dimly lit space that looked like a warehouse. The place was cluttered with equipment, half-finished inventions, discarded tools and piles of scrap. Yup, this was Juryrig's place. The most prominent item was an enormous ring, probably thirty feet across and mounted a good ten feet off the ground. A huge metal ramp let up to the ring's opening. It looked like an oversized, walk-in CT scanner.

She turned and saw next to her was a lit candle on the table. She wondered if that had been left specifically for her. Further thought was interrupted by a shriek. She whirled and saw Juryrig staring at her, his face ashen. "Oh god," he said. "What are you doing here?"

She was still a little disoriented from the battle and the rapid travel so it took her a moment to answer. "Defender sent me. Something about Plan C."

"Oh god," he said, horrified. "No, no, no. Oh god."

"What is Plan C?"

Juryrig started bustling about the workshop gathering things up. "Oh god. It'll never work. I mean there is no way I can align the fields. Oh god. There's no way. Oh god."

"What is Plan C?" she demanded again.

He was gathering a stack of thick manila folders and notebooks on a worktable. "Oh god. But we have no choice. Million to one is better than million to none. Oh god."

"What the fuck is going on?" she roared, getting angry.

Juryrig turned to look at her. "Do you have any electronics on you?"

"What?" she asked in confusion. He repeated the question and she said, "My phone."

"You'll have to leave that here." He pointed to an empty spot on the bench. "The temporal displacement is distorted by solid state electronics. Your torso might end up in a different when than the rest of you. Of course I'm not sure what happens with the human nervous system. I mean we've never used a live subject, and even in our inorganic tests we've managed only a few seconds. Oh god."

She was trying to make sense of his babbling and suddenly one phrase leapt out at her. "Temporal displacement?" she said in disbelief. "You mean a time machine?"

"Um, what? Well, yes, um, I guess that's a good an approximation. I mean it's not technically..." He broke off as a loud alarm rang. "Oh god," he said.

"What is that?" she shouted over the blaring klaxon.

"Oh god. They've broken through the outer door." His voice was shaking and he looked like he was ready to faint. "Phone," he said, tapping the table. "Quickly. No time. Oh god."

Cataclysm was in a daze but followed his orders, taking her phone out and putting it on the table. He pushed the stack of folders into her hands and she took them out of reflex. Then he handed her a disc in a jewel case. "This has everything you need. Optical media should survive the trip. Um, I think. If not, the paper documentation will be a backup but it isn't as complete." He shook his head. "Oh god. This will never work."

He scurried over to a control panel and started to type commands onto a keyboard there. A rising hum made her turn to see the enormous ring was starting to glow. A blinding white light appeared inside it. A time machine. She was looking at a time machine.

Juryrig squealed in fear as something started to pound at the door that led into this workshop. Soon there were several somethings pounding and scratching at the door and their roars could be heard even over the alarm. He turned back to his work, saying "Oh god" over and over.

"How far am I going back?" she asked, trying to adjust to the situation.

He looked up at her for a moment. "Um, I don't know. It's never worked more than a few seconds. I mean the quantum levels are exponential, so it's not that much harder to go back a year as a minute but we've never managed a minute. Um, the theory is sound, I think. Maybe. I mean it might just..." He looked at her and then looked away again. "Well, never mind about that. I'm hoping at least a few weeks. Maybe even a few months. Hope I don't overshoot and send you back to the Middle Ages or something. Oh god."

The activity at the door grew more frantic. Something massive hit the door and she saw it buckle every so slightly. Juryrig focused on his work as best he could. Cataclysm stood there helplessly, trying to keep hold of the pile of paperwork and wishing she had something to do. She wanted to open that door and fight her way out. As she thought that the massive thing hit the door again and she changed her mind.

"What about you?" she asked. "Are you coming too?"

Juryrig swallowed. "I have to stay. I have to operate it. Besides, it's already dangerous to send even one person back. The temporal entanglements are...oh, you must not talk to anyone! That's very, very important. Only me. But don't tell me anything. Just give me that stuff," he nodded at the pile in her arms, "and I'll figure it out. But don't say what happened."

"Why not?" She knew she should probably let him concentrate but she was still trying to wrap her brain around what was happening.

"Well, it has to do with...oh god!" He broke off as the door was hit again. It was noticeably bent now but still holding. He continued. "It has to do with information transfer and quantum consistency and, um, other things that might not make sense to you. Let's just say that the Universe doesn't like it when effect precedes cause. Information can move forward but not back. The timestream can adjust to some information moving against the flow but if too much does then it will disrupt the...well the Universe will kind of fold in on itself as the present and the past become the same and, um, that would be bad. Nearly there! Get ready."

She stared at him. "To do what?"

He nodded at the ring. "To go into the Temporal Quantum Displacement Engine." At her look he added, "The time machine. Go up the ramp but don't go in until I tell you. I'm trying to align the fields so you'll go back as far as possible. It wouldn't prove much if I send you back only an hour or so."

The door took another blow and one of the hinges popped out. They could hear the bellowing of the creatures outside and a clawed hand reached through the gap to push at the door. Juryrig's litany of "Oh god" sped up. "There!" he cried out in triumph. "Go, quickly!"

As he said this, a final blow struck the door and it tore out of its frame. It sagged to the side, leaving enough of a gap for the first creatures to start through. They started pouring into the lab and headed straight for Juryrig. She hesitated but Juryrig screamed, "Go!" in a panic. "If you don't go now then we all died for nothing!"

Feeling like a coward, Cataclysm mounted the ramp and ran full tilt into the light.


	38. The Apocalypse, Take Two

Cataclysm was falling. She barely registered that fact before she crashed to the cement floor. The folders spilled and papers burst across the floor. She landed face first but managed to put her arms out so her face didn't smack into the hard ground. The room was spinning, though she hadn't hit her head. Remembering the horde of creatures she rolled to her feet and whirled to face the rest of the room, her hands aflame.

She heard a shriek and saw Juryrig at his workbench, pawing through this equipment. He picked something up and pointed it to her, his voice quavering as he said, "Don't move! I have a gun."

Cataclysm looked around the room. There were no monsters and no time machine, though the random piles of junk looked about the same as before. She looked at Juryrig and the device he held in his shaking hands. With a sneer she said, "What are you going to do, make me a smoothie?"

"Um, what?"

"That's a sonic stick blender. Not much of a threat."

He looked at the device and then lowered it sheepishly. "Who are you?" he asked fearfully.

"Cataclysm," she said, rubbing the bruise on her elbow where she had hit the ground. "Next time you make a time machine, mount the portal flush to the floor," she suggested.

"A time machine?" he asked in confusion.

She saw a computer monitor on his bench. She pushed past him to look at the screen and saw a calendar. She pointed to it, demanding, "Is that date right?"

He looked at the screen and then back at her. "Yes, why?"

Cataclysm sighed. "Eight months. You sent me back eight months. We might have a chance."

Juryrig furrowed his brow. "Sent you back. You mean you were serious about a time machine?"

She turned and scanned the papers scattered across the ground. She spotted the jewel case and walked over to pick it up. She handed it to him and said, "This is a message you sent to yourself. It's supposed to have what you need. Or something." She shook her head. "I was in kind of a rush. Therakiel had..." She broke off, remembering what he said. "Er, I guess I'm not supposed to tell you. Something about information flowing backwards?"

He looked thoughtful and said, "Well, yes, I suppose that would violate causality and create a rift. But, no no no, time travel is impossible. Well, backward time travel."

She shrugged and held out the disk. "Fine, don't believe me. But maybe you'll believe yourself."

Juryrig took the case gingerly and opened it. He looked back and forth between her and the disk skeptically but opened the tray on his computer and inserted the disk. He closed the tray and after a few seconds, a video started playing.

"Hi, me. It's me!" said the image of Juryrig. "If you are seeing this then I successfully sent something back using my Temporal Quantum Displacement Engine. I don't know how far this went back so let's start at the beginning."

Cataclysm listened at first but the Juryrig in the video was talking about the theory behind time travel and it quickly devolved into equations and jargon she didn't understand. She paced restlessly around the lab wondering how long this would take. Juryrig was mesmerized by what he was watching, furiously scribbling notes.

Suddenly a thought occurred to her. "Hey, Juryrig, do you have a phone?"

"Yes," he said absently. "I don't have one in the lab because I don't like disturbances but there is a land line upstairs in the-" He broke off and turned to her in alarm. "No! You can't use a phone. Don't you see? You can't talk to anyone in this time."

"What, you mean ever? That's ridiculous!"

"Well, no, not ever. But you can't tell anyone about the future. I mean not even me. Little bit here and there, but we'll have to be careful. And the more you tell and the more people involved the more likely we'll create a temporal flux and disrupt the space-time continuum. I mean maybe backwards time travel is possible -- and I’m still not convinced you're real -- but that doesn't mean it's a good idea."

In exasperation, Cataclysm said, "Look, I have to call Witchcraft. It's important. Besides, she'll wonder where I am?"

"Where you are?" he asked in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Rolling her eyes she said, "She's going to wonder why I'm here instead of Millennium City. OK, fine, I won't tell her anything but at least I can tell her why I've disappeared."

"But you haven't disappeared," he said. "You're in Millennium City. Or wherever you were now. I mean the past you from your frame of reference is the present you from our frame of reference, so you are already here. Or there actually."

Cataclysm stared at him for a moment. "You mean there are two of me?"

"No, don't be silly. There's only one of you. But the future you has looped back and that doesn't affect the present you, at least until the future."

She tried to make sense out of what he was saying. "So in eight months when we catch up does that mean the other me will travel back to now?"

Confused, he said, "Well, of course not. Why would she? I mean I assume you came back to stop something from happening, and if you succeed then there is no reason for you to go back in time."

"But I already went back in time!" she said in frustration.

"Precisely. You already went back in time, but that doesn't mean you will in the future."

Cataclysm stared at him. It was like talking to a madman. "But if I don't go back then I didn't go back, and then the future doesn't change and everybody dies."

Juryrig looked stunned. "Everybody dies?" he asked weakly. Then he shook his head and said, "No, don't tell me that! Don't tell me about the future!"

She clenched her fists but tried to get herself to calm down. "Look, the whole point is I came back to prevent something from happening. Are you saying I can't change what happened?"

"No, you can change the future because you know the past, well your past."

"But then the future is changed and I don't go back so the future doesn't change and I do go back?"

Juryrig looked confused. "That doesn't make any sense."

"I know!" she shouted.

Suddenly the light dawned. "Oh, wait. I think I understand the confusion. You think you are going to save your world but you can't. What's happened in your world has already happened and you can't change it."

"What?" she said in horror. "But then Therakiel wins and the world ends!"

"The world...ends?" he asked in astonishment. "Wait, no! I told you, stop telling me about the future!"

She stomped forward. "I came back to save them," she said angrily. "Can I save them or not?"

"Well, no," he said. "But you can save us." Seeing her confusion he said, "Let me see if I can explain this. It's like...um...OK, say you are in a boat full of people that plunges over a waterfall but you jump out and swim upstream. Another boat picks you up and you warn them about the waterfall. You save them, but your boat already went over the falls. Understand?"

"But it's not another boat. It's the same people."

He stammered a bit. "Um, yes and no. I mean they are but they aren't. It has to do with parallel universes and variable timestreams. When you came back, you caused a branch. Another timestream split off, one where you came back. But your timestream has already happened, or at least it will have already happened in the future. And in that timestream you disappeared because you came back to this point and detoured into the new timestream."

Cataclysm stared at him, feeling the grief rise in her. "Then you aren't real?"

"Yes, we are real. As real as the people in your timestream. Or as probable, anyhow. If you dig down far enough in quantum mechanics, nothing really exists but probability waves." He studied her. "Look I know this is a lot to absorb, but this is what's important. Whatever happened in your timestream will happen in ours unless we stop it."

Her head was spinning. This was too much for her to absorb. After all she'd been through, he was telling her it was for nothing, and also that it wasn't. The people she knew were dead, but they were still here. "You're saying you are real," she said, trying to wrap her mind around this.

"As real as the Juryrig who sent you," he said emphatically.

"And so is Witchcraft. And the other Champions. And Dr. Ka. And even that asshole, Caliburn."

"Yes."

Through gritted teeth she said, "And Valerian Scarlet."

Juryrig shrugged. "I don't know that name. But if she was in your timestream then she is in this one."

Cataclysm grimaced. "OK. That's good enough for me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note for people reading weekly. Next week I'm posting the final two chapters together. The last chapter is a brief epilogue so it's not worth waiting another week to post. I just want to warn people about that because if you just click on the last chapter, you're going to miss Chapter 39 and be confused.


	39. Reunion

Phoenix Witch landed in a cloud of flame outside the door to Dr. Ka's brownstone. She was dressed in red tights, with pieces of finely crafted spiked armor strapped to her arms. A cape embroidered with stylized flames flowed behind her as she strode through the doorway, the cape anchored to pauldrons that had elaborate spikes that reached past her ears. Her identity was hidden by a mask that exposed only her mouth and her eyes, the latter literally aflame. Her red leather boots had wedge soles, adding a couple of inches to her slight frame.

She walked quickly through the halls of the brownstone, though her shoulders were slumped with exhaustion. She found Dr. Ka in his study and knocked on the door frame before entering.

"Phoenix," he said in relief, putting down the book he was reading and rising to greet her. "I was worried about you."

She waved off his concerns. "Papa Perrault had me running all over the Tangle. Took longer than I thought. But we hurt the Sovereign Sons. Baron Cimetiere's in custody so that's going to put a dent in their ability to raise zombies for a while. Of course that will get the other gangs moving to take advantage of them. I figure I'll hit the Dogz next." She rubbed her face tiredly.

Dr. Ka studied her with concern. "Phoenix, we appreciate your help but you don't have to do this alone. I'll send Black Mask to investigate the Dogz. You go get some sleep." She opened her mouth to object but he said sternly, "You are no good to anyone if you are exhausted."

Phoenix Witch grimaced but nodded. "Fine. I'll go get a couple of hours."

"You might speak with Robert first. He has been looking for you."

She made a disgusted noise. "I haven't got the energy to deal with him. I'll see him tomorrow."

"Very well," Ka said reluctantly. "But get more than a couple of hours of sleep. You may be superhuman, but that doesn't mean you are invincible."

Phoenix Witch shrugged and left him. As she headed back to the foyer she heard Caliburn's voice calling after her. "Hey, Phoenix. I need to talk to you."

"Later," she said without slowing down.

"It's important," he said sharply.

"Later!" she snapped and continued. She heard him mumble something but ignored him. He always thought what he had to say it was important. It could wait.

Phoenix Witch took to the skies as soon as she left the brownstone and rocketed off to the west. Dr. Ka had offered to put her up while she was visiting Vibora Bay but Caliburn got on her nerves too much. The Trismegistus Council had an enclave here and they were giving her a place to stay. They mostly left her alone and she could come and go as she pleased.

She arrived at the enclave and headed straight for her room, nodding greetings at the few wizards she saw. The room wasn't much, but she didn't need much. As soon as she saw her bed she realized how exhausted she was. She didn't even bother undressing as she collapsed face down onto the mattress. She would have been asleep in moments but was interrupted by a knock at the door.

"For fuck's sake, Caliburn," she mumbled. It would be just like him to follow her here, though if he went to that much trouble then maybe it really was important. With a groan she got to her feet and shuffled over to the door. She opened it and was surprised to see it wasn't Caliburn but rather a red-haired woman in a green dress.

The woman gave her a friendly smile and said, "Phoenix Witch? Hello, my name is Witchcraft. I'm visiting from Millennium-" She broke off as Phoenix Witch surged forward and grabbed her in a tight embrace. She stood there awkwardly as the other woman buried her face in her shoulder, and Witchcraft felt hot tears on her neck. Witchcraft's mouth moved soundlessly as she looked down at Phoenix Witch. After a moment, her brow furrowed and she looked at the woman more carefully. Puzzled, she asked, "Cataclysm?"

Cataclysm froze, realizing she had done something stupid. She quickly released Witchcraft and looked up and down the corridor. There was nobody there. "Come in. Quickly," she said, dragging the confused Witchcraft into her room. She closed the door and turned to face the other woman. She pulled off her mask and wiped away the tears. "God, Beth, you have no idea how good it is to see you. But what are you doing here?"

Witchcraft arched her eyebrows as she looked Cataclysm up and down. "I'm not sure that _I'm_ the one who owes _you_ an explanation but all right, I'll go first." She sat on the edge of the bed. "Juryrig came to Millennium City to consult with Dr. Silverback about something. I went to see him, looking for news from home. He was very nervous. Evasive. He said everything was fine and shuffled me out. He's really not a very good liar.

"I thought that was a bit strange. Things are slow so I decided to take a few days off and see how things were here. I came here, visited Dr. Ka and Robert and asked them how things were here. They said everything was fine and asked when was I leaving. They practically pushed me out the door. They may be slightly better liars than Juryrig but there was obviously something going on.

"I tried my own scrying spells and got nothing. And I mean _nothing_. The kind of nothing you get when you look out the window and find the window has been bricked over. Someone was blocking me. I got only one thing: the name Phoenix Witch. I investigated and found this fire-based hero had shown up in Vibora Bay a couple of months ago and has been working hard to clean up the city. I had no idea why that was relevant to me, but I've learned to trust my sources."

She shrugged and looked at Cataclysm. "And here I find you. That's my story. Your turn. What is happening?"

Reluctantly, Cataclysm shook her head. "I can't," she said. Witchcraft's face clouded and Cataclysm said quickly, "Do you trust me, Beth?"

Witchcraft studied her carefully. "I trust the woman who is back in Millennium City trying to recover some occult books stolen by DEMON." She cocked her head. "I'm not sure I know who you are."

Cataclysm sighed heavily. She knew Witchcraft wouldn't just go away, and if she kept digging she might complicate the situation. "All right," she said reluctantly. "I'll tell you a little, but only a little. I am that woman from Millennium City, but from several months in the future. A future I'm here trying to make sure doesn't happen."

Witchcraft didn't seem surprised. Time travel wasn't the weirdest thing she'd come across in her career. "How bad is it?" she asked with concern.

"Bad," Cataclysm said. "Battle of Detroit bad." She shook her head. "Worse."

In exasperation, Witchcraft said, "Then let me help! I can get the entire team down here in a matter of hours."

"No!" Cataclysm said loudly. She swallowed and forced herself to calm down. "No. Look, things are complicated here. We have to alter a historical event that has a lot of momentum, and yet we have to tread very, very lightly to avoid a paradox. We're trying to divert a battleship with a feather." She shrugged. "Or something like that. You know what it's like talking to Juryrig." She gave Witchcraft a pleading look. "I need you to trust me, to let _me_ handle it."

Witchcraft caught the emphasis. "Why you?"

"Because it was my fault," Cataclysm said, her voice catching.

"Why? What happened?" Witchcraft asked in concern.

Cataclysm shook her head. "No. That's all you get. I'm sorry. It has to be that way."

Witchcraft frowned and tapped her foot nervously. "All right. Can I help at all?"

"You can go back to Millennium City and stay out of this. And listen, you can't tell anyone anything. Not Defender and certainly not me. Even the little bit I've told you tonight you can't ever repeat. At least until Juryrig figures out the temporal something or other and if it's safe and if it will blow up the universe if I shake hands with myself." She rubbed her temples. "God I hate time travel."

Witchcraft was silent for a long time. "It's harder to do nothing," she said after a while. Cataclysm didn't bother replying. "OK, on one condition. You swear to me that if you need help, you'll call. I mean it!"

Cataclysm held up a hand. "Promise," she swore. She thought about the upcoming Blood Moon and sighed sadly. She couldn't warn Witchcraft about it even though she knew it was going to be brutal. "And I hate to say this but you need to leave now. If you stick around, I'm going to say something I shouldn't."

Witchcraft stood. "Very well." She walked to the door and stopped. She looked Cataclysm up and down. She gestured at her outfit and said, "Can you at least explain this?"

Cataclysm shrugged, a little embarrassed. "I can't exactly go around as Cataclysm, can I? Juryrig's the only one who knows who I really am. Ka and Caliburn just know I have knowledge of future events, though they don't know all the details. I had to adopt a new identity so I could act."

Witchcraft unsuccessfully suppressed a smile. "Well, it's a very cute outfit."

"God, don't start with me, woman. I feel like enough of a tool in this getup as it is. I spend half my day picking these tights out of my ass. And these shoulder things are just stupid. They keep catching on doorways."

"People don't appreciate the wardrobe difficulties that come with the job," Witchcraft said with a smile.

Cataclysm grinned back and then gave her a hug goodbye. After a few seconds Witchcraft started to pull back but Cataclysm wouldn't let her go. Witchcraft looked concerned and asked, "It's that bad?"

"It's that bad," Cataclysm confirmed, finally releasing her. "Stay safe, Beth."

"You, too," Witchcraft replied, squeezing her arm before leaving.

* * *

"So that's the plan," Cataclysm said to the group. It was one of five, the other four being led by Dr. Ka, Caliburn, Redsnake and Black Mask. Each squad was made up of heroes recruited from all over the world, though at her request members of the Champions had been excluded. The five teams were going to assault Therakiel's Temple and end this once and for all.

Like the others, Cataclysm had chosen her team herself. She referred to them as the Bitch Brigade. In addition to herself, still known as Phoenix Witch, the team was made up of Enamor, touched by the power of one of the Elder Gods to punish DEMON for trying to harness his power; Madlight, escaped mental patient who discovered the use of her powers drove back the madness that normally crippled her; Pariah, a Qliphothic demon banished to Earth after questioning why her people tormented humans; and Gramma Gamma, a woman who had been in her 70s when she gained metahuman abilities after being doused in radioactive sludge.

"This is where I say something clichéd like 'Failure is not an option'. Well in this case, that's really true. We aren't trying to save the city or even the country. There are seven billion people depending on us, and our world is well and truly fucked if we fail. We aren’t going to try; we are going to succeed. We aren't going to fall back. We aren't going to come back on another day. We are going to go in and we are going to kick some ass, right?"

There was a muted mumble of assent from the others and she said, "I can't hear you. Are we going to kick some ass?"

"Yeah!" they said with more enthusiasm.

"Damn straight we are," she said forcefully. "Now, I'm not going to lie to you. This isn't an easy fight. It's the toughest thing any of us have ever tried to do. And there is a good chance that one or more of us isn't going to make it back. But that's what we do. We take the chances other people don't. We make the sacrifices other people can't. We get it done no matter what. Are you ready to make that sacrifice?"

"Yeah!" they shouted again. She searched each of their faces, looking for any sign of hesitation but didn't see it.

"We aren't just going to win," Cataclysm said. "I come from the streets, and on the streets if you just win a fight then the other guy comes back tomorrow for a rematch. It's not enough to win. You have to beat the shit out of the other guy. You have to bloody him so badly that he spends the rest of his life afraid of you. Therakiel thinks this is the middle ground between Heaven and Hell. Well he's wrong. We are going to show him that we are worse than the most horrifying things he can find in the other planes. He's going to spend eternity running from us. He's never going to come back here, right?"

"Yeah!"

She put her hand out and the other put their hands on hers. "Bitch Brigade on three. One, two, three."

"Bitch Brigade!"

She was feeling pumped up and proud of her team. "Let's go make an angel cry!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The other members of the Bitch Brigade were some of my alts.


	40. Epilogue

Witchcraft was reviewing reports on PSI activity in the city when Defender came into her office. "A courier just dropped this off!" he announced as he handed her an envelope.

"Thank you," she said absently as she took it. She glanced it, intending to toss it in her in box but noticed the return address was Vibora Bay. Curious, she tore it open. Inside was a single sheet of paper with a handwritten letter.

> _Dear Witchcraft,_
> 
> _I'm writing this as we are preparing to head into Therakiel's Temple. I'm not sure how things are going to turn out but if you are reading this then I guess the world didn't end and there are a few things I should say._
> 
> _If I survive this, I won't be coming back to Millennium City. If you think about it I imagine you can figure out why. But there's more. Being away has made me realize some things. The city is my home but I think it's also preventing me from getting beyond who I am. Besides, you already have a kickass fire chick to beat up the bad guys. You don't need another._
> 
> _It's probably best that you don't tell anyone what you know about this, as little as it is. Juryrig still isn't sure it's safe but more than that it would simply complicate things. In particular, don't tell a certain hot-tempered ex-gang member. If I ever decide she needs to know about me, then I'll tell her myself._
> 
> _I don't know where I am headed from here. And I don't know if you'll hear from me again. I need to make my own way for a while. But whatever path I take, it's better than the path I was on before I met you. I'm not really good at sentimentality but I hope you know how grateful I am to you. You've been my teacher, my friend, my sister. You've helped me be a better person, a better spellcaster and a better hero._
> 
> _Yeah, you heard me. I used the h-word. As uncomfortable as I still am with that title, I've finally come to realize it's not about capes and parades. It's about action and sacrifice and responsibility. I can't imagine I'll ever be half the hero you are but I can be the best whatever-the-hell-I-am I can be._
> 
> _Although I'm leaving, you know I'll come back if you ever need my help. I don't know how you'll contact me since you won't know where I am but, hey, you're a witch. You'll figure something out._
> 
> _Take care of yourself and keep our mutual friend on the straight and narrow for me. She needs you more than she'll ever admit._

There was no name at the bottom of the letter, only a scorch mark.

Defender had watched her read the letter. "Bad news?" he asked worriedly.

Witchcraft wiped away a tear as she looked up. "No. Very good news, actually."

"Oh?" He reached for the letter but she pulled it away from him. She muttered a spell and the paper burst into flame and turned to ash. Defender cocked his head. "Are you going to explain that?"

"No," she said coyly. "Just an old friend catching up with me."

\---- THE END ----


End file.
